


Morning Gift

by SamanthaNovak



Series: Morning Gift [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Airplanes, Anxiety, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Depression, M/M, Male Lactation, Mental Health Issues, Mpreg, Post Mpreg, Spencer Reid Whump, Supportive Derek, Supportive Derek Morgan, Surprise Birth, Temporary mental health issues, baby on an airplane, mildly graphic childbirth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-10-18 17:58:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10622151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaNovak/pseuds/SamanthaNovak
Summary: When Reid wakes up one morning with severe cramps, neither he nor Morgan could have guessed their lives would take such surprising turn. They quickly learn the cramps aren't cramps at all and their world is about to be turned upside down.With a baby around, Spencer and Derek find themselves navigating obstacles they never thought they'd be facing - at least not yet and not so unprepared. Having a baby is a big event and it takes its toll on Spencer. Good thing Derek, his mother, and their team are there to help.(Summary might change again as more chapters are posted. And, look, I updated tags finally, too!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know most of my work is Supernatural but I do love Criminal Minds, too. I just haven’t had a story idea I felt fit those two well yet. I got this idea reading an mpreg!Reid – it’s been so long, I don’t remember which one anymore. But I remember thinking “Why is there no fics where the couple doesn’t know the 'mother' is pregnant?" So I began working on this. For some reason, I felt it fit Reid more than Castiel so I wrote it as a Criminal Minds fic instead of my usual Supernatural. I hope this came out well – especially the bits after the baby is born. It’s late and I know I need to go to bed so I was trying to finish because I just couldn’t leave it unfinished any longer… I tried not to make it choppy or rushed. Also, I know the title is lame. It’s late. I might come back and change it later. Okay, enough rambling (I do that when I’m particularly proud of a piece; can you tell?)!

* * *

 

Morgan knew something was wrong with his boyfriend the minute Reid woke up that morning. Well, that was a bit of an understatement – Reid had been _off_ for the last few weeks. And, now that Morgan thought about it, Reid had had little sporadic quirks over the last several months; more than his usual “Reidisms.”

They'd been on a case in Texas and he and Reid were interviewing a woman smoking a cigarette. Reid had excused himself to go throw up. And that time a few months after Texas, he'd snapped at Morgan for not putting as much sugar in his coffee as Reid liked even though no one can ever get the level of coma inducing sweetness Reid could. He'd never been _that_ upset about it before, usually grimacing and going to add more himself.

This particular morning, something seemed _really_ wrong with Reid.

Instead of being nestled into his side, Morgan woke to find Reid on the opposite side of the bed, facing away, and curled as tightly as he could. He'd shoved all the blankets toward Morgan and his pillow was on the floor. Upon close examination, Morgan noticed Reid was trembling, more like he were fighting off pain than if he were cold. That instantly had Morgan's attention and he sat up on one arm – noticing Reid tense once the younger man realized he was awake – and reached the other out to rest on Reid's arm.

“Spencer?” he asked softly, leaning forward to try to peer over him to see his face. Reid had his eyes scrunched tightly shut. “Hey, pretty boy, talk to me. What's the matter?”

Reid forced his eyes open but didn't turn to look at Morgan. “Stomach hurts,” he groaned through clenched teeth before scrunching his eyes shut again.

“You mean like cramps?” Morgan asked. At Reid's jerky nod, his frown only deepened. He didn't know of anything that could cause cramps _this_ severe. Reid looked like he didn't want to – or couldn't – move. “Turn over, pretty boy,” he commanded gently.

“Don't want to,” Reid mumbled, trying to curl in on himself even tighter.

“Spencer,” Morgan said, a bit more firmly to get his boyfriend to listen. “You know what cramps are, don't you?”

“A sudden and involuntary contraction of muscle,” Reid muttered. Morgan got the feeling Reid was only mumbling because of the pain this time instead of being petulant at Morgan using knowledge against him.

“Right,” Morgan affirmed. “So by curling yourself up like that, you're only contracting your abdominal muscles more. I know it hurts but lie back and uncurl and we'll get it to relax.”

With a defeated sigh through his nose and a pained whimper, Reid carefully let his legs stretch out and rolled onto his back. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around his stomach and let them rest at his sides, knowing Morgan was probably going to touch him. As his boyfriend indeed reached his hands toward his abdomen, he settled for quickened pants and gripping the sheet at his sides.

“Relax, pretty boy,” Morgan said in that soothing tone Reid loved so much. “I'm not going to _intentionally_ hurt you, you know that.” When Reid nodded, he gently placed his fingertips on Reid's stomach, closer to his hips as a starting point. He gently pressed along his stomach to find the muscle that was causing him so much pain, intending to massage it into relaxing. But as he navigated the muscle in search of the culprit, Reid gave a small cry and gripped Morgan's hands to stop him.

“Don't,” he gasped, pushing at Morgan's wrists to get them away from his stomach.

“Did that make it worse?” he asked, brow crinkling in confusion. If Reid were in _this_ much pain, he feared a hospital trip was in their future. There was only so much Morgan could do himself and he hated seeing his boyfriend in agony.

Reid nodded and let go of Morgan's wrists to curl up again though he stayed facing the older man this time. His breath still came in quick pants and he squeezed his eyes shut again.

“How long has it been cramping?” Morgan asked, glancing at the clock on the nightstand to note the current time – 8:10am.

“Woke me up around five-thirty,” Reid mumbled before giving in to another, longer whimper. “Derek, it really hurts,” he moaned.

“Didn't you think, at some point in the last two and half hours, that a regular cramp shouldn't last that long?” Morgan asked, voice rising in confusion. Reid winced and he knew his pain wasn't the cause this time. His boyfriend thought he was angry with him. “I'm sorry, pretty boy,” he said in a softer tone.

“It's not constant,” Reid clarified. “It relaxes and then contracts again.”

“If it's been going on this long, I don't see it stopping anytime soon,” Morgan sighed, sliding out of bed and stepping over Clooney to find a pair of jeans. The dog only lifted his head curiously for half a second before deciding his master wasn't interesting enough and going back to sleep. “I'm taking you to the hospital.”

“No! Please, Derek, no hospital,” Reid whined, forcing himself to uncurl so he could lean across the other half of the bed to reach for his boyfriend as if he could grab him and keep him from taking him to the hospital. “You know I don't like hospitals.”

Morgan paused, gripping the waist of his jeans and hunched forward with the garment halfway up one leg. In their line of work, hospital visits weren't uncommon. He knew that, after so many visits, they all got sick of them and generally went only when absolutely necessary. Even then, they didn't _stay_ there no matter how serious the reason. And Reid had a tendency to get put there more often than the others. Morgan really couldn't fault him for not wanting to go.

But even if they only went when something was genuinely serious, sometimes they didn't _know_ it was serious until it got _serious_. What if this was one of those times? A seemingly harmless bout of cramps could mean something much worse. What, Morgan didn't know. But with his seemingly endless knowledge, Reid probably would know and if he thought for one second that it could be something life-threatening, he'd agree to go, wouldn't he?

With a sigh, Morgan let his jeans drop and crawled back into bed, wrapping an arm loosely across Reid's side. “Alright, pretty boy, I'll make you a deal. You try a hot bath to loosen up those cramps and if it doesn't go away before the water gets cold, you let me take you to the hospital. Please?” he added a bit more forcefully as Reid opened his mouth to protest. “It'll make me feel better if a doctor tells me this is nothing.”

“I am a doctor,” Reid mumbled. This time, Morgan knew it _was_ to be petulant.

“Okay,” he laughed, “a _medical_ doctor. Please?” he added when Reid remained silent.

After a moment's hesitation, Reid sighed in defeat and nodded his agreement to the deal. A hot bath did actually sound pretty good... He let Morgan pull him out of bed, biting back a pained groan though he did have to grip his boyfriend’s hands tighter and stop for a minute. Once he nodded that it was okay to move, they shuffled their way into the bathroom. He sat on the toilet while Morgan ran the water, curled in on himself with his arms wrapped around his stomach. He didn’t notice the water shut off or his boyfriend kneeling in front of him until Morgan was gently pushing at his arms to make him straighten up.

“Come on, pretty boy,” he said in the tone Reid liked. “Gotta get undressed to get in.”

The younger man nodded in acquiescence and raised his arms up for Morgan to pull his t-shirt off. As soon as it was off, his arms went back around his stomach. He slowly rose to his feet when Morgan guided him to do so with his hands on his hips then let his boyfriend remove his pajama bottoms. He shuffled to the bathtub when he was gently nudged in that direction and Morgan held his hands as he stepped in, frowning thoughtfully as he stared hard at Reid's midsection. It seemed a bit puffier than usual; but Spencer was already so thin that when he gained any weight, it was usually pretty obvious. And a few extra pounds wasn't a bad thing on Spencer either.

As he lowered himself into the water, Spencer sighed heavily in relief. It didn't make the cramping completely go away but it made them far easier to deal with. Now that the pain wasn't so unbearable, he felt exhausted. He turned onto his side and wriggled to the side of the tub to lean his temple against the cool porcelain. One arm wrapped around his stomach. He was almost asleep once more when the shrill ring of his phone from the other room startled him.

“I got it,” Morgan assured softly before disappearing from the room. A few seconds later, the ringing stopped and Reid heard Morgan speaking. He couldn’t make out the words but the low tones of Morgan’s voice were comforting.

As he listened to his boyfriend, he tried to let the water help, tried to relax. A sudden pressure low in his abdomen broke any calm he’d managed to grasp and his body instinctively bore down. He felt something _shift_ and his eyes widened and his breath quickened, coming out in short, rapid pants. Trying to fight the instinct only made the pain worsen so, despite the new development terrifying him, he went with it and pushed down hard.

After a few pushes, his body let up and he fought to catch his breath. Slowly, he lowered his hand down to feel between his legs, trying to feel what was happening to him. His hand met with something round, roughly the size of a small watermelon, making his perineum push outward.

His breath caught in his throat then his chest tightened and he fought to get enough air. He leaned his head back against the tub and opened and closed his mouth a few times before he managed to find his voice though it came out in a choked whisper at first.

“Mo- Mor-… Morgan!” he screamed just as his body bore down once more, tearing a groan from deep in his chest. He felt the thing against his hand press out a fraction more as it did. “Derek!” he screamed again.

Derek slid into the room, phone still held to his ear, brown eyes wide with terror at the way his boyfriend had screamed his name. Reid met his eyes, head still tilted back against the tub, and whimpered. When Morgan’s eyes took in the way Reid’s hand was cupped against his body between his legs, he stepped closer.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hissed, seeing the sliver of a crown of a baby’s head peeking out between Reid’s fingers.

Reid whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut as he was forced to push again. This time, when the head moved forward, it stayed when he stopped pushing.

“Hotch, we’re not gonna make it,” Morgan said quickly. “I need to call you back. Later.” Without waiting for an answer, he hung up then quickly knelt beside the bathtub and used his free hand to brush hair from Reid’s face. “It’s okay, pretty boy,” he murmured as he dialed 911.

Reid whimpered then held a long whine which turned into a groan as he pushed and the head reached its widest part. He barely paid any attention to Morgan as he spoke to the 911 operator then began moving around the bathroom to collect items she told him to, too lost in his body’s instinct to push. Instinct told him to give smaller pushes to ease the head free.

By the time Morgan had resettled beside the tub, Reid had delivered most of the head and with the current push, the head popped free. His mouth formed an O in surprise and relief at the release of pressure. He panted for breath, feeling the baby turn inside him.

“I don’t think y’all are gonna get here in time,” Morgan said into the phone. “He’s delivered the head completely already.” He listened to the operator once more then reached for the towel he’d grabbed, eyes fixed on what was happening between Reid’s legs.

Cupping the head in one hand, Reid reached the other down as he continued to push. He worked the shoulders and arms free and then with one final push, the rest of the baby’s body slid free. With a cry of surprise, Reid lifted the baby from the water and cradled it against his chest as he leaned back once more.

Doing as the operator told him to, Morgan took the towel and draped it over the baby in Reid’s arms, beginning to gently rub it down to dry it and stimulate circulation. The infant let out a small watery cry then began to cry in earnest. As Morgan rubbed it down, he noticed the baby was a girl. Once he was certain she was dry and breathing well, he tossed the damp towel aside and grabbed a fresh one, helping Reid cover her up against his chest the best he could to keep her warm. Her cries calmed as she warmed up.

“What?” Morgan asked, turning his attention back to the phone. In answer to whatever the woman said, he glanced down into the water between Reid’s legs. “Ah, no, not yet. Is that normal? … Okay, good. … Okay. … Yeah, he’s definitely alert.”

Reid glanced up at Morgan, realizing the operator must have asked about him, then went back to examining the baby in his arms. Her coloring almost looked like she’d gotten the perfect tan, all pale caramel. Reid hoped when her eye color settled that she had Derek’s brown. It would compliment her skin tone perfectly. She had all ten fingers and all ten toes, too.

After the operator assured him that the paramedics were close and told Morgan not to hang up, he put the phone on speaker and set it on the edge of the tub, a safe distance away that he wouldn’t bump it into the water.

“You okay?” he murmured, kissing Reid’s temple.

“Yeah, I think so, all things considered,” Reid said with a half smile. “I guess she was the cause of the cramping that woke me up… I had no idea I was even pregnant.”

“I know, pretty boy. It’s okay,” Morgan said. He looked at the baby sleeping in his boyfriend’s arms and reached over to gently touch her cheek.

They stayed that way for a few more minutes, quietly taking in the sudden presence of a baby in their lives. Just as the sound of knocking came from the front of the house followed by several sets of footsteps moving through the house, Reid tensed and groaned slightly.

Morgan snatched up the phone to tell the operator that the paramedics were there then called out to them to let them know where they were. Reid began panting once more and Morgan could tell when he began to push again.

“Another one?” he asked just as the paramedics entered the room, already tugging on sterile gloves. One of them – a woman – gently pushed him out of their way and he stood back a bit, watching Reid closely.

“Afterbirth,” the first paramedic told his partner, inadvertently answering Morgan’s question. “Easy pushes,” he gently told Reid who nodded in understanding as he did so.

The woman pulled instruments out of sterile packaging as her partner helped Reid finish. She handed him clamps and scissors and he smoothly cut the cord. The woman moved around him to gently take the baby from Reid while her partner puts the afterbirth in a plastic bag.

“You told the 911 operator that this birth was a surprise. Because the baby had no prenatal care, we take this with us for the doctor to use to help treat the baby as it represents its time in the womb,” the man explained.

Morgan nodded then gently took the baby from the woman and she moved to help Reid out of the bathtub. She wrapped him in a couple of towels and helped him onto a stretcher. The group made their way out of the house and into the ambulance.

Once they reach the hospital, doctors meet the ambulance and immediately wheel Reid and the baby away. Morgan is directed into a waiting room and the nurse explained that Reid and the baby need to be examined for any complications. This set Morgan on edge with worry and he began pacing the small room. After several circuits, he dropped onto one of the couches and pulled his phone from his pocket, finding Hotch’s number.

The other man answers on the first ring. “Morgan? What happened? Are you and Reid alright?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Morgan rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. “I mean, we’re at the hospital and they took Reid and made me wait.”

“What happened?”

“Spencer just, ah… he had a baby.”

Hotch is silent for a moment and Morgan has to check his phone to be sure the call hadn’t ended. Finally, Hotch spoke and Morgan could tell he was shocked. “He… He had a _baby_? But he wasn’t even pregnant.”

“Apparently, he was. Hotch, the baby is _tiny_. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s premature,” Morgan explained.

“She? It’s a girl?”

“Yeah. She’s beautiful, too. Pale caramel colored, she’s got Reid’s features... Not sure about her eyes yet. She cried for a bit when she came out but then she went to sleep,” Morgan said with a laugh. “I mean, she- she bursts into the world so unexpectedly, causing such commotion, then falls asleep right after like it’s no big deal!” His laughter quickly dissolved into erratic breathing and a few sobs. “We had no idea Spencer was pregnant and now, all of a sudden, we have a _baby_ , Hotch.”

“Derek Morgan?”

Morgan looked up at a nurse that just entered then back down at his feet as he speaks to Hotch. “I gotta go. Call you later.” As he’s slipped his phone into his pocket, he stands and crosses to the nurse. “How are they?”

“They’re both perfectly fine, Mr. Morgan,” the nurse assured him with a warm smile. “We’ve checked Mr. Reid-”

“Dr. Reid,” Morgan gently corrected.

“Dr. Reid,” she amended without any irritation, “into a room for observation for the next few hours just to be on the safe side. If all goes well, he can be discharged later this evening. Your daughter is small but otherwise, nothing seems to be wrong despite having no prenatal care. You can see them now.”

Morgan nodded and followed her to an elevator. They rode up to the maternity floor and she led him through a few hallways to recovery rooms. As they neared a door that was open, she stepped aside and gestured toward it.

Morgan peered inside and his heart flipped at the sight before him. Reid sat upright in the hospital bed, supported by a pillow behind him, wearing a blue hospital gown with darker blue spots. Their daughter was cradled in his arms and a nurse was helping him learn to feed her, speaking gently to him, her hands hovering near their daughter though she remained hands off until Reid needed help. When Reid gasped then grinned in apparent success, the nurse gave a quiet “yay.”

When Reid looked up at her, he noticed Morgan in the doorway and his grin turned to a loving smile. “Hey.”

Morgan crossed the room to stand on his other side, smiling down at him. Close up, he saw the baby had been swaddled in a white blanket with blue and green stripes and given a white cap.”Hey, yourself.”

They both looked down at their daughter as she sucked hungrily. Morgan settled on the edge of the bed at Reid’s side and slipped an arm around his shoulders.

“I’m so proud of you, pretty boy,” he said and Reid smiled sheepishly at him.

“I was a terrified mess,” he said.

“Still. You brought our baby into the world despite being scared,” Morgan said. After a moment more of watching their daughter eat, he reached over to caress the top of her head. “It’s amazing how, an hour ago, we had no idea you were pregnant and now, we have a _daughter_ ,” he said, voice filled with wonder.

Reid hummed in agreement then frowned as he looked down at the baby. “She needs a name.”

Morgan tilted his head in thought then looked back down at the baby when she began fussing. The nurse helped Reid shift his hold on the baby to show him how to burp her. Once she had finished and calmed, Reid cradled her in his arms once more then turned to Morgan.

“You want to hold her?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Morgan gently took the baby, too preoccupied with her to notice the nurse take her leave. After a minute, he looked back up at Reid. “So, names?”

“Mm,” Reid hummed as he leaned against Morgan’s arm. The older man wrapped it around him and he scooted closer to his side. “Do we want it to mean anything?”

“Is it too cheesy to pick something that means ‘surprise’?” Morgan asked with a laugh.

“What about something that means ‘gift’ instead?” Reid suggested.

“I like that,” Morgan said and removed his arm from around Reid to awkwardly shoved his hand between Reid and himself to pull out his phone. After some Google searching, he frowned. “Anything that means ‘gift’ usually means ‘gift from God’ and neither of us are that religious.”

Reid is quiet for a moment, sucking on his lower lip in thought. “I don’t think that matters much,” he finally said. “She was a gift and that’s the meaning we choose to take from the names.”

“So we just drop the ‘from God’ part?”

“Pretty much.” Reid shrugged. “Let me look.”

Morgan handed him the phone and watched him flick through the list for a moment.

“What about Michaela?” he asked, showing Morgan the alternate way to spell it.

Morgan thought for a moment then tried the name aloud. “Michaela Reid-Morgan.”

“No hyphen,” Reid corrected. “Michaela Morgan.”

“Babe,” Morgan whispered, eyes wide. “You sure?” Reid nodded, smiling at Morgan with such love and affection that it makes tears fill the other man’s eyes.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I-If you’ll have me, I’d like to-”

Morgan cut him off with a firm kiss, sliding his arm around Reid to gently cup the back of his head. “Of course, pretty boy.” He looked between the baby in his one arm and the man held against him with the other. “Damn, a daughter and a fiance all in one day.”

Reid laughed and laid his head on Morgan’s chest. “So, is that her name then?”

“Yeah, I think it sounds perfect.” When he looked back down at Reid, he saw his eyes had slid closed and he kissed the top of his head. “Go to sleep, pretty boy. I’ll keep an eye on the baby and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Reid’s only response is a soft hum that makes Morgan grin. He’s still grinning as he settles back against the pillows behind them and carefully nudges Reid over so he can get both legs up onto the bed to rest more comfortably. He didn’t know how long Reid or Michaela would nap but for now, he was content to just rest with them both. The morning had been just as stressful on him as it had been for Reid. Okay, maybe not _as_ stressful but he felt he deserved a nap, too.

Calling Hotch again could wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hadn’t intended for this to be more than a one-shot, I swear. XD But I got a review on FF that gave me an idea. I’ve only partially executed the idea in this chapter so there will be a third to finish the idea. Also to reveal the nursery Morgan works on in this chapter.

* * *

Reid slept most of the day. A nurse came by a few times to help him nurse and change Michaela. He was surprised that he was so at ease with the infant, easily picking up on how to properly fit the diaper on, how to swaddle, and getting Michaela to latch on at mealtime. There had been a hiccup or two when she wouldn’t and he’d become anxious but the nurse was so patient and calm that it kept Reid calm which made it easier to get Michaela to eat. But around feeding and changing and general bonding time, he napped. Which was fine with him because Morgan had to go baby ready the house in a hurry.

While Reid napped the first time, Morgan had made a mental list of the things he’d need and formed a plan on how best to get all those things. When Reid had woken, he’d explained his plans and the younger man had agreed. So while Reid spent the day learning to care for a newborn and napping, Morgan had set off on what was probably the biggest shopping spree he’d ever been on.

Since they’d gotten to the hospital via ambulance and with no money on him for a cab, Morgan had had to call Garcia to come pick him up. He’d hoped to put off seeing her a bit further because he knew she’d be a worried mess until he explained why Reid was at the hospital. In an effort to buy himself a _little_ time – and to keep from disturbing Reid – he waited until he was out front to call her, settling on a bench a little out of the way of the entrance.

“Go for Garcia,” the bubbly blond said when she answered.

“Hey, baby girl,” he said with a grin.

Garcia gasped in surprise at finally hearing from one of the two people she was worried most about and was instantly firing questions at him in the span of one breath. “Oh, my gosh, are you two alright? Where’s Reid? What happened? All Hotch said was that you were at the hospital and-”

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, Mama Bear,” Morgan said with a laugh. “We’re fine, Reid’s still at the hospital – I am, too, actually – and and I will explain everything if you will just take a few deep breaths and calm down for me.”

“Okay,” Garcia said breathlessly then took a few deep breaths. “Okay. I can do that. I can do that,” she said.

Morgan smiled as he listened to her try to calm herself. “Relax, baby girl. This is _good_ news, I promise,” he said with a playful smile she couldn’t see. He knew she wouldn’t like this next part. “Before I tell you our good news, I need to ask you a favor.”

“Derek Morgan, if you don’t tell me why you two are at the hospital, I am going to PhotoShop you,” the blond snapped.

“Hey, hey, no need for that!” he protested. “I just need you to come pick me up. We were brought in an ambulance and I don’t have money for a cab.”

“Ambulance?!” Garcia shrieked and Morgan had to pull the phone from his ear.

“Remember I said it was _good_ news, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly. “No need to panic. We’re both _fine_ , I promise.”

“Right. Okay. Good news,” Garcia repeated, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I am getting my purse now. So will you _please_ tell me what is going on?”

“No.” Hearing her gasp and gear up for a rant, Morgan spoke quickly to explain. “I don’t want to tell you this while you’re driving! Because you’re gonna get excited and we need you in one piece.”

Garcia groaned in frustration and Morgan could hear the slam of a car door. “ _Fine_.”

“Love you, baby girl,” Morgan sing-songed.

“Yeah, yeah,” the blond muttered. “Okay, leaving now. Where do I meet you?”

“I’ll be right out front,” Morgan said. “I have to call Hotch, too.”

“Okay, be there asap!” Garcia promised.

The two hung up and Morgan redialed Hotch’s number. Hotch had taken a few rings to pick up this time and judging by the dimmed sounds in the background, Morgan guessed he was at the police department in the town they were in.

“Morgan? Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Morgan assured, unable to help the grin the thought of his boyfriend and daughter elicited. “Sorry I didn’t call you back right away. Spencer fell asleep in one arm and I had the baby in the other.”

“I understand,” Hotch said and Morgan heard traces of amusement in his boss’s usual stoic demeanor. “Haley was the same right after Jack was born. How are they?”

“Good. Great. A doctor came in to tell us all the tests they’d done were clear.” Morgan blew out a breath, feeling himself relax before he’d even realized he was tense again at the remembered worry that their daughter would be sick. “He said she was a lucky baby since she hadn’t had any prenatal care. She’s small but he assured us that she wasn’t premature. There’s a nurse with Spencer now, showing him how to care for her. He’s taking to it really well, actually.”

“It’s instinct. Haley had been convinced she wouldn’t know how to take care of a baby, but once Jack was really here, she knew exactly what to do. She could even sense a difference in his crying that I could never hear,” Hotch said fondly. “What did you name her?”

“Michaela. We don’t have a middle name yet. But at least we’re not calling her ‘the baby’ anymore,” Morgan said with a laugh.

“I’m glad they’re both alright. And how are you holding up?”

Morgan was quiet for a moment before truthfully saying “I’m good. It was scary at first, seeing Spencer actually _having_ the baby out of nowhere, but now… I can’t imagine her not being here. Not even a full day old and I love her.”

“I’m happy for you. Being a dad is a big responsibility but also one of the greatest accomplishments we can achieve. I couldn’t imagine life without Jack either. Listen, Morgan, starting today, I’m putting you both family leave. You don’t have to come back for at least a month. Legally, I can give you up to three months but we both know you and Reid won’t stay away for that long,” Hotch said with a small chuckle.

“We’ll see,” Morgan agreed with a chuckle. “Hey, Hotch, can I borrow Garcia for the afternoon? I’m already borrowing her for a few to get me back home, but I need to get _a lot_ of stuff and she’ll be helpful in setting everything up and making sure what I get _looks_ nice, too.”

“Sure, on one condition.” Morgan didn’t like the mischievous tone in his boss’s voice.

“What?” he asked, drawing the word out warily.

“Just ask her to get Kevin Lynch for us in case we need help,” Hotch said with a chuckle.

Morgan groaned in mock annoyance at the buildup to a very easy condition, grinning. “Alright, alright. But _you_ have to tell the rest of the team. Because as soon as I tell Garcia, she won’t be keeping it a secret.”

There’s silence for a brief moment before Hotch mumbled a teasing “You’re fired.”

Laughing, Morgan craned his head to peer around the parking lot at the sound of an approaching car. It wasn’t Garcia. “Thanks, Hotch.”

“If I have to be the one to tell the team, I need details,” Hotch said. “They’re going to have questions. Start from the beginning.”

So Morgan did. From the moment he woke up to find Reid fighting the cramping that morning up until naming the baby, he gave Hotch as many details as he could. He explained that they knew Spencer _could_ get pregnant but that they had no clues that he actually _was_. Hotch asked a few clarifying questions which Morgan answered.

Satisfied that Hotch had enough to adequately soothe their team, they said their goodbyes just as Garcia pulled into a nearby parking space. Morgan pocketed his phone and stood, meeting her at the curb as she hurried across the parking lot as quickly as her red stilettos would allow. Before he could even say hello, she was dragging him back toward the bench and plopping down with him.

“Okay, I have been a paragon of patience and we are not going _anywhere_ until you tell me what the good news is that landed Reid in the hospital,” she said, folding her hands in her lap, one ankle tucked behind the other.

“Okay, okay,” Morgan said with a chuckle. “When we woke up this morning, Reid didn’t feel good. He had really bad cramps so I told him to take a bath.”

Garcia nodded, completely understanding how a hot bath would have helped. “With you so far,” she said warily, waiting for him to finish.

“When Hotch called us to tell us we needed to come in, I was away for two minutes to get the phone. I heard him scream my name – my last name.” He bit back the reaction to laugh when Garcia’s eyes widened comically behind her red framed glasses.

Ever since the two profilers had begun dating, the team had gotten used to them using each others’ first names instead of last names. For Reid to revert back to using Morgan’s surname, it had to have been bad.

“Anyway,” Morgan continued, giving her hands a squeeze to focus her again, “when I ran into the bathroom, he had a hand in the water” – he gestured awkwardly downward – “there. When I got closer… his hand was cupping a _head_.”

“A… a _head_? Like… like a _baby’s…_?” Garcia sputtered, cupping both hands in front of herself in a weak miming of cupping a baby’s head. When Morgan nodded, her red lipsticked lips formed an O of shock and her eyes widened again. “R-Reid had… h-had a…?”

Laughing, loving her genuine surprise and clear joy, Morgan nodded. “Reid had a baby,” he confirmed.

Without warning, Garcia threw her arms around Morgan’s neck and hugged him tightly. “My Junior G-Man had a baby!” she squealed before jerking back to lock eyes with Morgan’s. “Why didn’t you guys _tell_ anyone?!”

“We didn’t know. I mean, we knew he _could_ but we had no idea he _was_ ,” Morgan explained. “He never got sick, didn’t have any of those odd cravings, and seemed like himself.”

“You’d think as thin as he is, a baby growing inside of him would have been _obvious_ ,” she muttered with amusement before speaking a mile a minute again. “So what is it? Boy or girl? What’d you name it? When can I see it?”

“It’s a girl,” Morgan said, beaming once more. He wondered if he’d ever stop grinning at the thought of his daughter, hoping not. “We named her Michaela. No middle name yet though.”

“Michaela what?” Garcia pressed. “What did you do with the last name?”

“Well, uh,” Morgan hedged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought we’d call her Reid-Morgan but Spencer… he, ah… he said he wanted just Morgan.”

Frowning in confusion, Garcia tilted her head thoughtfully. “But she’s Reid’s baby, too, and you two aren’t… I mean, unless you _planned_ to, but… _Wait_!” she gasped. “ _Are you?_ ”

“Are we what?” Morgan asked with a laugh, unable to help teasing her. Garcia was just too adorable when she got excited.

Garcia glared and swatted his arm. “Don’t play me, Derek Morgan. If you’re naming her Michaela _Morgan_ and not _Reid-Morgan_ , then are you or are you not giving Reid your last name, too?”

Grinning sheepishly, Morgan nodded, deciding he should stop teasing before she threatened to PhotoShop him. “Yeah, we are. Don’t know when yet,” he quickly added when she looked ready to squeal again. “It just sorta came up when naming her and we agreed that we both _wanted to_.”

“You need to officially propose then,” Garcia admonished, wagging a finger at him but she quickly melted into a grin and hugged him tightly once more. “But I’m so happy for you guys!” When she let go of him again, she stood and glanced up toward the upper levels of the hospital as if she could see Reid and the baby. “Can we go see him? Please?” she whined.

“He’s probably sleeping again,” Morgan said as he stood. “When I left, the nurse was helping him feed her and they always nap afterward. Besides, I have a special mission for you.”

“What kind of mission?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Well, the house is nowhere _near_ ready for a baby. I need your help getting furniture and clothing and all kinds of things,” he explained. “You can help make sure it’s girly enough and fashionable.”

“Oooh, then I’m your girl,” she purred, tugging his hand toward her car. “But can I see them later?”

“If Spencer is up for visitors,” Morgan agreed.

* * *

When Hotch re-entered the main room of the police department after his call with Morgan, JJ gave him a questioning look.

“Everything okay?” she asked where she stood over a map they were using to try to form a geographic profile. It wasn’t as easy as Reid made it seem. Part of her hair fell out from behind her ear and she swiftly brushed it back and tucked it into place without breaking her unwavering stare.

At her question, Prentiss and Rossi turned their gazes away from the board where victim photos and details had been pinned, both pairs of eyes locking on their leader as well.

“Was that Morgan?” Rossi asked, taking a few steps toward Hotch.

“Yeah. They’re both alright,” Hotch assured. His conversations with Morgan until now had been short and he hadn’t gleaned much information to tell his team other than that Reid had had a baby. He hadn’t wanted to tell them just that with no details, knowing the lack of information would be worse than just knowing Reid was at the hospital and alright.

“So can someone finally explain to us _why_ Reid had to go to the hospital?” Prentiss asked, arms folding across her chest.

“Spencer gave birth this morning,” Hotch explained with no hesitation, getting it out for the other three to process. When both JJ and Prentiss opened their mouths, no doubt to throw questions at him, he held up a hand and continued with his explanation. “Morgan said he wasn’t feeling well this morning and when I called you all in, he told me they couldn’t make it. Apparently, Reid had already half delivered the head by that point.

“I didn’t get another call until we were boarding the jet but all Morgan could tell me was that the baby is a girl. He gave me greater detail when he called just now. She’s small but full term. Both she and Reid are doing fine. Morgan said a nurse has been with him to help and Reid is taking to parenthood just fine,” he explained.

“What about Morgan?” Rossi asked. “How’s he handling it? Having a baby out of nowhere has to be chaotic.”

“He’s getting Garcia to help gather everything they need for the house,” Hotch said. “Kevin will aid us in her place for now.”

“What about emotionally?” JJ asked. “I get Morgan diving in to do something physically to handle this but how is he reacting emotionally?”

Hotch shrugged with a small smile. “He says he’s already in love with his daughter. It was shocking to suddenly find Reid having a baby but he says he can’t imagine life without her.”

JJ seemed to digest the relayed admission for a moment before nodding, a small smile gracing her features. “Good.”

“What did they name her, do you know?” Prentiss asked, her own lips curling into a smile to mirror JJ’s.

“Michaela,” Hotch said.

“The feminine form of Michael, meaning ’Gift from God’,” Rossi said then blinked at the twin looks of surprise the women gave him. “What? I’m religious, sue me.”

The girls giggled affectionately which caused the Italian to smile back at them.

“Okay,” Hotch said, tone shifting from friend mode to leader mode. “If we’re all caught up on Reid, we need to get back to work. Sooner we catch our unsub, sooner we can get home and see them.”

With renewed vigor – and matching grins on the ladies’ part – the four dove back into their case.

* * *

When Morgan returned to the hospital later that evening, his body ached and he was exhausted. But with all of Garcia’s help, the spare room he’d been using as an office had been completely transformed into a nursery for Michaela. The joy that he’d created a space just for her made any weariness worth it. Reid had agreed to let Garcia see him and Michaela when they were finished so the tech followed him on his way up to Reid’s room. She didn’t seem as exhausted as Morgan, her excitement at seeing the baby for the very first time overpowering any other sensations.

Morgan had brought with him a black diaper bag with pink trim that he and Garcia had already filled with anything Michaela might need on an outing – not that she’d be going on any soon; he’d brought it this time so she could be dressed to go home. He’d also stuffed a change of clothes for Reid into the bag. A carrier that securely attached to a car seat base had already been secured in the backseat of the car. Morgan hadn’t been sure if he needed to bring it up with him but he reasoned that it was in the car at least and he planned to drive up to the hospital to collect Reid and the baby anyway. It’s not like they didn’t _have_ one to take her home in.

As the neared Reid’s room, Garcia seemed to _vibrate_ with excitement.

“Garcia, relax,” Morgan said with an easy smile.

“Sorry,” she said with a small exhale, forcing herself to calm.

Chuckling, Morgan pushed the door open and stepped in. He dropped the bag at the foot of the bed and moved up to settle on the edge beside Spencer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Garcia followed him in but stopped a few steps from the foot of the bed, eyes locking on the baby in Reid’s arms.

“Oh,” she said, voice barely making any sound.

“Hey, Garcia,” Reid said with a warm smile. “You _can_ come closer, you know.”

She took a few steps forward and peered at the infant who yawned, the hand peeking out of the top of her blanket rubbing uncoordinatedly at her nose before she sighed and nuzzled toward Reid’s chest.

“Reid,” Garcia said in that same barely there voice. “She looks like you.”

“Yeah, poor thing,” Morgan teased, earning a glare from the other two. “Garcia, you wanna hold her?” he asked. When Reid looked at him with a mix of surprise and unwillingness of letting go of the baby, he pressed a kiss to his temple. “You can’t hold her while you change and I did bring you new clothes.”

“Oh. Right.” Reid smiled at Garcia then nodded toward the baby. “Would you?”

Grinning, she nodded emphatically and carefully bent down to let him settle the infant into her arms. She carefully lowered herself into the chair beside the bed and adjusted her hold on the baby. “She’s so beautiful.”

While she was distracted with Michaela, Morgan helped Reid up and toward the bathroom, passing him the diaper bag. When he returned, he looked a lot more comfortable in the black sweatpants (the kind without the elastic ankles; Reid hated the way they felt like they were “grabbing” him) and gray sweater.

“Who picked the bag?” he asked as he set it at the foot of the bed then used both hands to brush his hair behind his ears.

“Garcia,” Morgan said with a nod toward the blond.

“Wha’?” she sputtered when Reid’s gaze fell on her. “I-I thought black wouldn’t make you two feel awkward carrying it but since it _is_ for Michaela’s stuff, I felt it needed _some_ pink.”

Reid smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed closest to Garcia. “That’s very thoughtful, Garcia, thank you. So, you’ve known all day, then. I assume the rest of the team knows now?”

“I told Hotch,” Morgan said. “Since he was the one who called while you were in the bath and I told him we couldn’t go in, he knew something was wrong. I explained it all to him earlier when I left and gave him permission to tell the other three.”

Reid nodded with a small smile. “I guess that’s easier than trying to tell everyone ourselves,” he admitted with a laugh. His attention was back on Michaela when she let out a whimper and squirmed in Garcia’s arms. He watched for a moment, hoping she’d settle back into sleep, but she continued to squirm and her face crumpled before she let out a very displeased cry.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t do anything,” Garcia said nervously, biting her lip as Reid gently took the baby with a soft laugh.

“I know, Garcia, it’s okay,” he said, shifting on the bed to lay Michaela in the middle. He began to unwrap the blanket she was swaddled in. “She ate a little bit ago so I’m betting she needs a new diaper.”

Morgan swiftly snagged the bag and set it on the bed beside Reid. “Have I told you how proud I am of you, pretty boy?” he said.

Reid smiled up at him then began removing the dirty diaper, shushing the whimpering baby and cooing to her.

“Seriously,” Morgan continued, grinning. “You got this down.”

“I’ve had help all day,” Reid said with a sheepish smile as he cleaned Michaela up and fastened a new diaper in place. He dug into the bag again for clothes. He held up a white onesie with an M in calligraphy, laughing as he looked at Garcia. “This has to have been your idea.”

Garcia nodded once. “Darn right it was. This baby is gonna be the trendiest baby in existence.”

Still grinning, Reid deftly pulled it on and snapped the buttons at the bottom. He reached into the bag once more, frowning as he pulled out a black band with a giant red poppy sewn on it.

“That was my idea,” Morgan said with a grin.

“She is not wearing a giant flower,” Reid muttered, setting the headband aside and reaching in again for the little black skirt Garcia had packed to pair with the onesie. He easily slipped it on then expertly folded the blanket back around her to swaddle her once more.

“Come on, pretty boy, she has no hair yet,” Morgan whined. “You gotta put something there.”

“It is exactly that she has no hair why she is not wearing one,” Reid said as he lifted the now calm infant into his arms once more and adjusting the white cap when it slipped toward her eyes. “You’re just drawing attention to the fact that she has none.”

“Fine, fine,” Morgan muttered, snatching the headband and putting it in the bag. “I suppose it will look better when she has more hair.”

“Looks like we have a little party going on,” a cheerful feminine voice said. The three turned to see the nurse that had been helping Reid all day stride into the room. “Hello, Dr. Reid. How are you and little Michaela doing this evening?”

“Hi, Melanie,” Reid said, smiling down at his daughter at the mention of her. “We’re good. Just finished another diaper change, actually.”

“Yeah, there are plenty of those in your future,” Melanie said with a laugh as she glanced at the clipboard she was holding. “Well, you two have been given permission to get outta here. Everything looks good with the both of you. She should grow into a healthier size in the next few weeks provided she eats properly which shouldn’t be a problem. You two have done well each time she needs feeding. Just remember what I showed you if you have trouble getting her to latch again.”

Reid nodded in understanding and absently swayed with Michaela when she fussed a bit. She immediately quieted again.

“Latch?” Garcia asked, tilting her head.

“Getting her to take his nipple in properly,” the nurse explained while Reid’s cheeks flushed. As confident as he seemed when it came to Michaela – much different than his usual awkward shyness – he just couldn’t bring himself to discuss that part of his anatomy with his friend.

“Oh. Does it hurt?” Garcia asked, looking at Reid.

Reid shrugged slightly as he met her eyes. “Sometimes. If we get it right, it just feels like a pulling or tugging. Not outright painful.”

“So, you ready to get out of here?” Melanie asked with a grin.

Reid nodded again. “Very much.”

“I just need you to sign these,” she said, holding the clipboard toward him to show him the papers.

He handed the baby to Morgan then took the clipboard and quickly scanned them before signing them and handing it back.

“Good,” she chirped. “You are good to go. Unfortunately, I do have to do the Ride of Shame,” she said with a pout. “Doesn’t matter how good you feel, it’s policy.”

“Ride of Shame?” Morgan asked with a slight chuckle.

“The wheelchair ride down to the car,” Reid mumbled, finding his sneakers shoved into a side pocket of the bag and tugging them on. “I had mentioned earlier I really didn’t want to be wheeled out like I can’t walk.”

“And I told him I had to,” Melanie added. “I’m going to take these to be filed and I’ll be back with the chair,” she said before disappearing.

Reid finished lacing his sneakers then took Michaela back into his own arms. The baby whimpered at the constant changing of places but he gently bounced her, patting her diapered bottom through the blanket, and cooed and she settled once more.

“Reid, you’re like a pro,” Garcia whispered in awe. “This is so different from the awkward genius you are at work.”

Reid smiled sheepishly and ducked his head, his hair falling forward to cover his face. “I just somehow know what to do and know that it’s right.”

Melanie returned with the chair and held it steady as Morgan helped Reid lower into it without having to let go of Michaela. Once his boyfriend was settled, he grabbed the diaper bag and proudly slung it onto his shoulder. Before they left, Melanie produced a small pair of scissors from her scrub top’s pocket and snipped the bracelets on Spencer’ sand Michaela’s wrists. Then the three made their way toward the elevators.

Outside, Morgan handed Garcia the bag and jogged toward their car while the other three waited at the curb. When he pulled up, he hopped out and gently took Michaela to fasten her into her car seat. While he helped Reid up, Garcia leaned into the car and reached for a small pink blanket lying on the seat and tucked it around the baby. When she made to sit in back and Morgan led Reid to the front, the younger man shook his head.

“No. Garcia can sit up front. I want to sit with Michaela,” he said.

The two swapped places and Morgan helped Reid settle into the back seat next to their daughter. Morgan smiled affectionately when one of the doctor’s hand immediately settled on the edge of the carrier near her legs. The three waved to Melanie who waved back, grinning proudly.

She waved until she lost sight of the car and was still grinning when she took the chair back inside.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My! I am absolutely floored by the amount of hits, kudos, and bookmarks "Morning Gift" has received so far! In four days, it surpassed the amount of hits, kudos, and bookmarks "Baby Butler," my most popular story until now, received in almost a full YEAR, and kept going! I have no words to express how much that means to me, that "Morning Gift" has become so popular, so fast. I've been inspired by ONE review on FF to add more chapters - an idea that I STILL haven't fully implemented so there is STILL going to be another chapter coming - and have watched the numbers in this story's stats rise and rise. I'm just- *Wipes eyes* You guys are amazing, you know that?

* * *

Having left her car at Morgan's when they took his car to pick up Reid, Garcia went home with them. She wanted to see Reid’s reaction to the nursery anyway, and offered to help them “at least for tonight.” Besides, she knew the bathtub Michaela was born in needed to be tackled. She’d stumbled upon it while she and Morgan were setting up the nursery and the knowledge that it was like that kept niggling at her consciousness all afternoon. Plus, she’d reasoned that she could cook dinner for them and take care of Michaela while they napped. Reid had tried to protest that he’d napped at the hospital plenty but she wouldn’t hear any of it.

When they pulled up in front of the house, Reid frowned as he watched Clooney in the window, barking excitedly. “Derek, you didn’t take anything of Michaela's earlier to get him used to her, did you?”

“No,” he said, frowning as he got out of the car. He opened the back and gently took his boyfriend’s hand to help him out. “There’s three of us though and he’s usually pretty calm.”

Reid bit his bottom lip as he eyed the excited dog warily but nodded and turned to lean into the car. He unfastened the carrier from the base fastened into the car and carefully straightened, pulling the infant from the car. She remained blissfully asleep as she was moved.

Morgan entered first, pushing the excited dog back away from the door. “Clooney, down,” he commanded. The dog immediately settled all four paws on the wood floor with a soft thud. “Sit.” The dog instantly dropped his backside to the floor.

While Morgan corralled the dog, Reid took the carrier to the dining table and set it in the middle. He glanced to the dog sitting patiently then gently unfastened the straps and lifted Michaela into his arms. Cautiously, he stepped closer to them.

Morgan knelt down to grasp Clooney’s collar, watching Reid stand in front of them. Clooney tilted his head up to look at the two and sniffed eagerly in their direction. When he didn’t become excited, Reid carefully knelt where he stood, still out of Clooney’s reach. The dog leaned forward a bit more but Morgan gently tugged him back. He sniffed a bit more but still didn’t seem to get overly excited.

“Why don’t you just bring the baby to him?” Garcia asked quietly where she stood a few steps away from the little family.

“You’re supposed to do it increments,” Morgan explained. “It teaches him that he has to respect the baby like he would Reid or I. The baby isn’t one of his toys he can be rough with. Even though Clooney is a naturally calm dog otherwise, it’s best not to just assume he’ll be okay with her.”

“He seems to be doing okay though,” Reid said quietly, watching as the dog inched down onto his belly, sniffing toward Michaela before deciding he had no more interest in the new little person. Reid carefully wiggled closer, gently tightening his grip on the baby in his arms.

Clooney looked back at him as he moved and sniffed the baby’s foot through the swaddling blanket. He gave it a quick lick which made Michaela jerk her foot back and whimper. Reid shushed her while Clooney went back to ignoring the baby.

“I think he’s completely chill with her,” Garcia said with a laugh.

“Looks that way to me,” Morgan said, cautiously releasing Clooney’s collar. When the dog didn’t make any move to get up or move toward Reid and Michaela, he stood and helped Reid rise. “For now though, I think we should keep him from the nursery to further teach him that’s _her_ space and he needs to respect it. When we feel better with him near her, we can let him in under supervision.”

“I like that idea,” Reid agreed with a nod.

“Speaking of the nursery,” Garcia said excitedly, grinning. “Ready to see it?”

Reid nodded and let the two lead him toward what used to be Morgan’s office. They let him enter first, both standing on either side of the doorway to peer inside as he did. His eyes widened as he took in the transformed office.

Morgan had chosen dark wood furniture to compliment the medium wood of the floor which had been broken up by a large plush white rug that took up most of the center of the room. A simple wooden crib with pink bedding sat in one corner by the window. The little pink blanket Michaela had been covered with in the car was artfully draped over the front railing and Reid turned a confused expression to Garcia.

“While you two were making introductions, I snuck in here with it to finish off the crib,” she explained with a proud smile.

He returned her smile then turned back to the room, immediately eyeing the dark wood rocking chair and matching ottoman on the other side of the window, angled away to face the room. A soft white pillow was positioned atop the beige upholstery. He idly noted it’d come in handy with feeding time and made a note to thank Morgan for thinking of that.

Beside the crib was a simple dark wood six drawer dresser. There wasn’t anything to adorn it other than a baby monitor set. A matching changing table was positioned across from it a couple feet from the rocker. A small round end table had been set up beside the rocking chair. A vase of pink carnations and baby’s breath was set on the table.

“It’s still not completely finished,” Morgan said. “I didn’t have time for proper personalizing but there’s matching furniture.”

“I love it,” Reid said, tears filling his eyes as he turned to Morgan. “I love the way it looks, and the pillow in the chair and the flowers on the table...”

“Those were Garcia’s idea,” Morgan said as the woman in question moved to gently take Michaela.

“Go read the card,” she said, gently rocking the baby.

He crossed to the table and pulled the little white card from the pink ribbon tied around the vase. _Congratulations on your little gift. May she fill your life with joy._ He read it a second time despite having it committed to memory after one, and wiped at his eyes. Before he could help it, he was sobbing, trying to take deep breaths.

Morgan was immediately at his side, gently enveloping him into a tight embrace. “What’s wrong, pretty boy?” he said quietly, brushing one hand down the back of Reid’s head.

“N-Nothing,” Reid sobbed before taking a deep, shuddering breath. “Just… Just overwhelmed. The baby, the room, the card… Twenty-four hours ago, I didn’t even _know_ and now… Now our lives have changed in such a big way.”

“I know we didn’t plan to have a baby – at least not yet – but I know we can do it,” Morgan murmured into his boyfriend’s temple.

“I don’t doubt that – at least not right now,” Reid countered, wrapping his arms around Morgan’s waist and leaning into him. “But what about everything else that’s going to have to change? Like our jobs? It’s not going to be the same as with Clooney where we can just drop him at a kennel for the week and pick him up after.”

“We have at least a month to figure that out. Hotch put us on family leave. We can be away for up to three if we want,” Morgan explained. “For now, just shut off that beautiful brain of yours and focus on our daughter, okay?”

Reid sighed deeply, pushing out all his worries and relaxing into his boyfriend. “Okay,” he said quietly, nodding against Morgan’s chest.

“Do you think you can handle one more surprise?” Morgan asked quietly, gently swaying with his boyfriend to help further soothe him.

“What is it?” Reid asked, peeking up at Morgan and wiggling a hand up between them to wipe at his eyes.

“It’s in our room,” Morgan said.

Nodding, Reid let Morgan lead him out and toward their room. He didn’t notice Garcia snag the baby monitor parts in one hand as she followed with Michaela.

When Morgan led him into the bedroom, he stopped short, immediately noticing the bassinet at the foot of the bed. It wasn’t flush with it, a small gap separating the two pieces of furniture. Reid noticed the curved feet at the bottom and realized the space was to allow it to rock. Like all the other furniture in the nursery, the bassinet was dark wood. Instead of pink linen, the it had white, from the skirt to the inside to the blanket draped over the side.

“You thought of everything,” he whispered. “The nursery, a pillow for feeding, a bassinet for our room...”

“Garcia helped,” Morgan said, his hand moving from Reid’s shoulders to rub circles into the small of his back.

The tech gently handed the baby to Reid then put one of the baby monitors on one of their nightstands. She turned both halves on and held the other to take with them.

Reid kissed his daughter’s forehead before carefully settling her into the bassinet. He made sure her blanket was wrapped snugly around her to keep her warm and so it wouldn’t come loose and cover her face. Once she was settled, he followed the other two out, gently pulling the door shut behind him.

“Okay,” Garcia said determinedly, squaring her shoulders. “I have to tackle that bathroom before I go mad knowing it’s in there. And _you_ ,” she said firmly, pointing at Reid when he looked about to protest, “are going to go into the kitchen and let Morgan make you dinner. I doubt you’ve eaten all day.”

“That’s not true,” Reid muttered. “They gave me lunch.”

“Hospital food doesn’t count. Morgan can make you something better,” she said, pressing the baby monitor into Morgan’s hands and gently pushing them toward the kitchen. “Go.”

Forty-five minutes later, the bathroom was spotless and Reid was fed. He and Morgan were cuddled up on the couch, Reid’s head on Morgan’s chest. Garcia entered the living room, settling into the armchair with a sigh.

“’Tis clean,” she declared with a smile. “I feel better now.”

Reid laughed softly and gave her an appreciative smile. “Thank you, Garcia. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” she countered. “The water ring would have been worse the longer that tub stayed full.”

Still smiling, Reid settled more firmly into Morgan with a yawn.

“You should go lie down,” Morgan said quietly, his hand rubbing slowly up and down Reid’s back.

“Yeah, aren’t you supposed to sleep whenever the baby sleeps?” Garcia asked. “I remember hearing that somewhere.”

“Yes, but she’ll need to be fed again soon. I’ll just have to get up right after laying down to feed her,” Reid mumbled sleepily. “Once she’s fed again, I’ll lie down.”

As if on cue, soft whimpering filtered through the baby monitor on the coffee table and quickly escalated into full crying. All three adults stood but Reid waved dismissively toward Garcia. “You don’t have to come every time,” he said with a soft smile. “Derek’s just going to hold her while I settle in the rocking chair in the nursery then take her when I get up again.”

“Why don’t you go find one of my t-shirts for him,” Morgan offered, knowing she needed to feel useful and having spotted two dark spots grow on Reid’s sweater when Michaela began to cry.

Reid glanced down at his sweater at the mention of getting a new top and flushed when he noticed the wet spots.

“Why…?” Garcia asked, noticing them as well.

“In the first few weeks, the reflex that releases the milk is still ‘learning’ to respond to the baby nursing. Until then, sensations like hearing her, smelling her, or even thinking of her can make my body release oxytocin which causes the cells in the milk-making portions of my chest to contract, ejecting milk toward the nipples for the baby to drink. And, like now, if she’s not, it leaks,” Reid explained. “The more she nurses, the quicker the reflex will become attuned to Michaela and the leaking will gradually stop.”

Garcia nodded in understanding then followed them into their bedroom. While Reid lifted Michaela into his arms, cooing softly and gently rocking her to soothe her, Garcia stepped over to the dresser to find a t-shirt. The two parents took the baby to the nursery. Clooney attempted to follow, curious at what they were doing in addition to the new smell of the room. Morgan gently pushed him back and told him to sit and stay. He watched them from the doorway but didn’t enter.

Reid gently passed Michaela to Morgan then pulled his sweater off and dropping it near the door to be put in the laundry later. He picked up the pillow in the chair and settled into it, adjusting the pillow in his lap before looking at Morgan expectantly.

“Hey,” Reid cooed as Morgan settled Michaela in his arms on the plush pillow. “Hand me her blanket, Derek.”

Morgan grabbed the little pink blanket from her crib and helped Reid gently unswaddle Michaela then cover her with the pink one. He folded the swaddling blanket and put it in the dresser with the other couple he’d bought. Reid cupped the back of her head with one hand and rested his other at her back, both hands outside the blanket gently draped around her. He gently guided her toward a nipple then helped her get her mouth around it when her lips parted at the sensation of it touching her lip. She immediately began suckling. Reid sighed happily, his hand at Michaela’s back slowly rubbing up and down while she ate.

Garcia entered, carrying a black t-shirt, and her eyes immediately locked on to Reid and Michaela. “Awww,” she cooed. Then she set the folded t-shirt on the table beside him, stealing a peek at the baby’s face against his chest. “This is never _not_ gonna be adorable.”

Reid blushed at her words and watched his daughter bring a loose fist up to rest against his chest beside her face. This earned another soft squeal from Garcia.

“Okay, the house is clean; you all are, almost, all fed; and you all will be napping soon,” she said, giving Morgan a light glare when he protested a nap. “You spent all day moving and arranging and prepping this lovely nursery. You _are_ going to lie down with Reid and Baby Genius.”

“What are you gonna do?” he countered.

She smiled sadly and gently patted his cheek. “Oh, sweetie, I have to go back to work. Not all of us get a month of leave for this beautiful little gift. Besides, I’m sure JJ and Prentiss at least will have questions and I will have the answers now,” she added with a grin.

“I suppose we can assume they’ll all want to stop by whenever they get back from their case,” Morgan said with a weary sigh. Suddenly, the thought of seeing the whole team at once felt overwhelming.

“Probably,” Garcia said with a shrug. “But first...” She took out her phone and moved to stand beside Reid so she could get an angel of Michaela’s face. She had stopped drinking but was still suckling, her eyes closed. Garcia snapped a picture and pocketed her phone. “Because they’ll want to see her,” she explained at Reid’s annoyed frown.

His expression softened at the explanation, realizing they didn’t have any other pictures of her yet.

With a gentle hug for Reid and Michaela and a tight hug for Morgan, she disappeared from the room.

A moment later, they heard the front door open and shut.

Morgan let out a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. Suddenly, alone with the baby, the thought of actually taking care of her seemed a lot more daunting. Until now, Reid had had help at the hospital and they’d had help from Garcia. Now, it was just Morgan, Reid, and Michaela. While Reid slept, it would be up to Morgan to take care of her. Unless she was hungry. Morgan couldn’t feed her like Reid could.

“Derek, relax,” Reid said quietly with a small laugh. “We can handle this.”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah, we can, can’t we?” At Reid’s nod, he stepped closer and peered down at their daughter, his heart fluttering. How was it possible to love someone so much so fast? “Is she finished?”

“I think so,” Reid said, glancing down at her. Her suckling had stopped and she’d let her mouth release his nipple, lips parted and breathing even. “Yeah, she’s asleep again.”

Morgan gently removed the blanket it and draped it over the crib then carefully lifted the baby into his arms. He held her in one arm and offered the other hand to Reid. Once his boyfriend was on his feet and the pillow back in place, he took their daughter to the changing table to dress her for bed, removing the skirt and onesie and pulling on footed pajamas. He’d bought pajamas especially made with thicker material to keep the baby warm without a blanket.

Reid pulled on Morgan’s t-shirt then took his sweater to the laundry room and put it in the basket of clothes that still needed to be washed. He went back to their room where Morgan was carefully lowering Michaela into the bassinet. Watching him with a loving smile, he slid under the blanket on his side of the bed and waited for Morgan to slide into his own side.

“You’re so good with her,” he mumbled as he settled into Morgan’s side.

“Nowhere near as good as you,” Morgan whispered, mindful of the sleeping infant in the room. He wrapped an arm around Reid’s back to tug him close. “Ever since I came into your room the first time to see you feeding her, you’ve just instantly known what to do.”

When he didn’t get an answer, he peered down at Reid against his side, seeing his eyes closed. With a soft smile, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. But now that he wanted to sleep, sleep wouldn’t come. His mind buzzed in all different directions.

He thought about how just that morning, it had been the two of them. Now there was a baby in a bassinet at the foot of the bed that hadn’t been there twelve hours ago. The bathroom no longer bore the mess of her birth but he still remembered Reid screaming his name and groaning as he pushed her from his body. He remembered the way Reid, who now lie relaxed and calm, had curled up tightly against the pain in his abdomen. He heard Clooney slowly pad into the room and cautiously lie down in his usual spot beside Morgan’s side of the bed. When his master didn’t shoo him from the presence of the new little person, he laid his head down and sighed.

With the addition of Clooney to his usual place beside the bed, Morgan felt lighter and was awash with the sensation that _this_ was _home_. _This_ , with Reid’s solid warmth against him, Clooney snoring lightly on the floor, and his daughter sleeping in her bassinet at the foot of the bed.

Just before he fell asleep, he remembered something that set his nerves trembling.

They still had to tell his mother about Michaela.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this chapter to have Fran Morgan’s response to the news about her granddaughter but the chapter turned out this way instead. XD Next chapter, I swear. Also coming up in next chapter (or chapter after that if it gets away from me, too, which, clearly, happens), the team returns from their case to meet Michaela in person.


	4. Chapter 4

Later that evening, after waking up from their nap to Michaela crying, getting her a clean diaper, and feeding her again, the couple find themselves on the couch, Michaela nestled in Reid’s arms, fast asleep.

“You ready for this?” Morgan asked, glancing at Reid with one finger poised over his phone screen. “We can always wait until tomorrow.”

“The longer we wait, the angrier she’ll be that we kept this from her,” Reid said with a soft smile. “Even if we didn’t know about Michaela’s existence until she was born. Besides, she’s asleep and things are calm. And I had time to rest at the hospital. Who knows how dead I’ll be tomorrow.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Morgan laughed as he tapped the button. A few seconds later, the call was accepted and Fran Morgan’s face appeared on the screen. Morgan purposely kept his phone held so only his face showed to her. “Hey, Mama.”

“Hey, baby,” she said with a smile. “It’s not like you to video call me. Why couldn’t you just regular call me?”

Laughing, Morgan shifted a bit closer to Reid and pulled the phone away from their faces so they both fit but Michaela was still hidden.

“Oh, Spencer’s there, too!” she said with a grin. “Hello, Spencer.” She brought a hand up to wave in front of the camera.

“Hello, Mrs. Morgan,” Reid said sheepishly.

“Oh, none of that,” she chided lightly. “How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Mama. Or Fran if it’s more comfortable, baby.”

Ever since Fran had learned that her son was dating his male coworker, Reid had quickly become like one of her own. A feeling which solidified the longer the two had been together. At a little under a year, she knew the two had something special and Spencer was enveloped further into the folds of the Morgan household. Though she had made it clear Spencer could call her mama just like her own children, she didn’t press it and never tried to take Diana’s place. Diana was Spencer’s mother, absent or not, and Fran would never try to replace her. But that didn’t stop her from loving Spencer.

Blushing, Reid nodded. “Fran,” he amended. “We wanted to tell you something. Or, I suppose, show you.”

“Show me?” Her smile faltered in confusion but not joy as she watched the image shift as Derek changed the angle of the phone. She gasped when she caught sight of the newborn in Spencer’s arms.

“Surprise, Mama,” Derek called softly, laughing at the wide-eyed look on his mother’s face. “Her name is Michaela.”

At the sound of her son’s voice, Fran’s eyes narrowed and her tone became firm. “Derek Morgan, you lift that phone up and look me in the eye.”

When he does so, he was still grinning. “Mama, I can-”

“Why didn’t you two tell me Spencer was pregnant?” she snapped. She wasn’t really angry, Morgan knew. He’d _seen_ angry as a kid. “Your sisters and I could have come to help. I know you’ve got your teammates but, still, _we’re_ family, too, and you didn’t tell us?”

“Mama-”

“And we could have thrown Spencer a shower and I could have stayed after the birth to help you both-”

“Mama!” Morgan gave the phone a shake to get her attention. Still laughing, he shook his head. “We didn’t know.”

Fran’s false ire was replaced by confusion once more. “Didn’t know what? That we could have done all that? Baby, what do you think family is for?!”

“Fran,” Reid called softly and Morgan changed the angle of the phone to show his face, too. “We didn’t know I was pregnant,” he explained. “We knew I _could_ but there were no signs I _was_. Not until this morning when she was born when I started feeling severe cramps.”

“Oh,” she gasped softly, as much in realization as in sorrow that they’d had no idea until Reid was in pain. “She was only born this morning?”

Reid nodded. “You’re the first family member to be told. Of course the team knew first because they knew something was wrong when Derek and I didn’t go to work but we wanted to tell you as soon as possible.”

“Oh, baby, that must have been hard, not knowing what was happening,” she said.

Reid nodded. “I was terrified. It didn’t make it better when she started crowning. You’d think it would, knowing that’s what was happening but it made it worse.”

Fran nodded as he spoke, completely understanding. “Having a baby is a big event. It’s one thing to prepare to deliver a baby. Quite another to go through such a big change and not know it until it’s happening.”

Reid nodded then smiled down at Michaela in his arms. “She’s not a day old and, despite the circumstances of her birth, I love her and I can’t imagine not having her here.”

“Oh, sweetie, a baby has such power without realizing it,” Fran said with a smile.

Derek snorted in amusement. “Tell me about it. All the commotion her birth caused and she fell asleep right after.”

Fran laughed and the sudden sound caused Michaela to startled but Reid soothed her back into sleep. “I’m sorry,” Fran said, a bit quieter than they had previously been speaking.

Reid gave her a warm smile. “It’s okay.”

“Listen, why don’t I fly out to Virginia,” she said, talking a mile a minute as if she hadn’t just accidentally startled her granddaughter. “I could get a flight for tomorrow and be there in an hour.”

“Mama, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” she insisted. “This is my first grand-baby. I couldn’t be around before, but I can now. I can help out for a little bit while getting a chance to get to know her.”

“She’s not even a day old,” Morgan countered with a laugh. “Unless you want to get to know her sleeping, eating, and pooping patterns, there isn’t much to get to know.”

“Hush, boy. I can help,” she said again. “Besides, I don’t get to see either of you often anyway. This is a perfect opportunity to spend some time with my boys, too.”

Reid glanced at Morgan then shrugged. “Honestly, I’m a bit nervous about being alone with her. I had help at the hospital and then Garcia came home with us. She’s not going to be an easy baby forever… It would be nice to have a mother’s help.”

Morgan sighed, knowing he was outnumbered, but smiled genuinely at his mother. “Okay, Mama, I guess it’s settled. Just text me your flight info and I’ll come pick you up tomorrow.”

“Nonsense, I can take a cab,” Fran said with a wave of her hand.

“No, I can come get you. What kind of son would I be if I didn’t greet my mother at the airport?” Morgan countered.

“Such a gentleman,” Fran said with a laugh. “Alright, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Mama.”

“Bye, Spencer!”

“Bye, Fran.”

With the call ended and the phone tossed gently onto a stack of books on the coffee table, Morgan settled back and draped his arm over Reid’s shoulders.

“She’s asleep,” he said, glancing down at their daughter.

Reid nodded. “Again. It’s not uncommon for newborns to sleep up to four hours at a time, four to eight times a day. At this point, she’ll only be awake forty-five minutes to an hour between naps. And she was awake to be fed and changed already.”

“I suppose we should try to get back to sleep then, huh,” Morgan said, pushing himself to stand.

“Take Clooney for his walk first,” Reid reminded him, carefully rising as well. “We can’t neglect his routines just because of the baby. It’s not fair to him and keeping routine will help him adjust to her presence.”

Morgan nodded and grabbed the leash by the door. Seeing his master get his leash, Clooney pushed himself up and trotted over, tail wagging. Once the leash was attached, the pair slipped out the front door.

Reid took Michaela to the bedroom and settled her in her bassinet. He stood there for a few moments just to watch her, smiling affectionately. He resisted the urge to lean down and touch her, not wanting to wake her. It was strange, the way life could change in twenty-four hours.

By the time he heard Morgan and Clooney returning, Reid was dressed for the night and settled into his side of the bed. He listened to the sounds coming from the other rooms as Morgan prepared for bed. First, the sound of the running tap signaled Morgan topping off Clooney’s water bowl which was followed by the sound of the dog lapping at it. Then, he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Once he was finished, he led the dog into the bedroom and closed the door. While Morgan shucked off his clothes, Clooney found his spot beside the bed and settled down.

As Morgan slid into the bed, Reid wriggled closer to his side and settled in his boyfriend’s arms with a content sigh. His eyes slid closed and Morgan began to slowly rub his hand up and down Reid’s back, the soothing action lulling Reid into sleep quickly.

He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep until he was waking up. Just as he realized it was because Michaela was crying and shifting to get up, Morgan was gently shifting him onto the pillows and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Go back to sleep, pretty boy,” Morgan whispered. “I got this.”

“She might be hungry,” Reid mumbled even as he snuggled into his pillow. “Breast milk digests easier so it moves through the digestive system faster which means she’ll be hungrier more often. It’s not unusual for her to want to eat eight to twelve times a day.”

Morgan chuckled at Reid being able to spout out facts even when sleepy. “If that’s it, I’ll come back for you,” Morgan assured as he moved to the bassinet. He began cooing to their daughter as he lifted her up into his arms.

When he left the bedroom with her, Reid’s eyes popped open but he remained still. A few seconds later, Morgan speaking in a low, soothing tone to the baby came through the baby monitor. Realizing he must have taken the other half into the nursery, Reid relaxed and closed his eyes again. He could still hear Michaela crying through the monitor though it was beginning to taper into quiet whimpers. After several minutes – in which Reid heard Morgan looking through the dresser for something – the crying stopped. It wasn’t long after that Morgan was returning with a sleeping baby and settling her back into the bassinet.

“She needed a new diaper,” he whispered to Reid who was watching from his place in bed. “And I changed her out of that skirt thing and into better pajamas.”

Reid nodded and watched Morgan settle Michaela then slip into bed. He was immediately wiggling closer to his boyfriend as they both settled in to go back to sleep.

They had to get up a few more times to feed and change her and by morning, both were exhausted. Reid found himself anticipating Fran’s visit even more. It would be nice to have someone else to help with Michaela so he could sleep. He hated that he couldn't have his coffee in the morning.

Fran had managed to find an open seat on a flight in the afternoon. She texted Derek to let him know when she'd be arriving. Before leaving, he'd made sure Reid would be okay on his own while he picked up his mother. Despite Reid having fallen asleep before he left anyway and the possibility that he'd likely _stay_ asleep until Morgan returned, Morgan worried about the two of them the entire drive to the airport.

All worry and fear related to his daughter vanished as soon as his mother was pulling him into a firm hug. His mother's presence comforted him. She could help them adjust to having a baby around. And after thinking about it, it probably was a good idea to have someone around for a little while. They'd been thrust into parenthood with no warning. They hadn't had the chance to read and prepare. They'd need someone to teach them and who better than a mother?

“Mama,” Derek greeted with a grin as he hugged his mother once she'd come off the plane, giving her a gentle squeeze and swaying slightly. “It's good to see you.”

“I've missed you,” she replied with a grin.

When they parted, Derek took his mother's carry on bag and they made their way to baggage claim for her to get her other items. They didn't talk about anything significant as they gathered her things and made their way out to his car. After her things were safely in the trunk and they were pulling onto the road, his mother turned her attention to him, grinning brightly.

“I bought Michaela a present,” she announced. “I also got something for Spencer. I hpoe he likes it,” she added, sounding a bit more unsure.

“Why wouldn't he?” Derek asked, glancing at his mother with a concerned frown for a moment before returning his eyes to the road.

“Well,” she hedged, absently peeling a chipped part of her nail polish off, noting she should get them redone. “I know it can be hard to be up and down to feed the baby and not get enough sleep because he's the _only one_ that can feed her. I assume you two are staying away from formula for a while?” At her son's nod, she continued. “And since she was such a surprise, I assumed you probably didn't have a lot of things yet. So I got a pump so he can fill bottles and that way, you - or I, while I'm here – can feed her while he sleeps. Of course, he can still feed her himself when he's awake and ready. I would never take away that bonding experience.”

“That's very thoughtful, Mama,” Derek said slowly, unsure how he felt about the item. Then again, he wasn't the one who was going to use it or not. “Don't be hurt if Spencer doesn't want to use it, okay? He might want to keep feeding her himself for a while.”

“Oh, I understand,” she assured with a wave of her hand and a warm smile. “She's so new. I understand if he wants to be with her as much as he can. Are you both on leave from work?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, Hotch gave us a month. Legally, we can have up to three but he knew neither of us would want to stay away that long.”

“You both plan to go back?” she asked, frowning slightly. Derek couldn't tell if it was because she was thinking or disappointed in the idea.

“We're not sure,” he admitted with a shrug. “She was only born yesterday. We haven't discussed stuff like that.”

“Do you want to?” she pressed.

Derek glared as a car pushed its way into the lane without signaling properly then huffed. “I'm not sure yet, to be honest. I think it would depend on what Spencer wants to do. We're either in it together or out together. I don't want to end up like Hotch and Haley. She left because he was always away. I couldn't do that to Spencer if he wanted to quit. But at the same time, if we both leave, what's connecting us to our team anymore? We're family and I don't want to lose that if we both leave,” he admitted.

“Don't stay just for them,” Fran said gently. “Think about what's best for Michaela. _She's_ the one that matters now. You don't see me or your sisters often but we're still family and we still love each other. If you both want to leave, you will still see them just like you still see us. And,” she added with a smirk as she settled in her seat with a little wiggle, “I wouldn't be opposed to moving to Virginia to look after my granddaughter if you wanted to keep your jobs.”

Derek sputtered in shock and looked away from the road for a moment to turn wide eyes on his mother before quickly turning back to the road and pressing the brakes as the car in front of him came to a sudden stop and turning without signaling again. He glared at it, wishing he was in an SUV with police lights so he could grab his badge and say something to the jerk.

“Mama,” he finally said after a moment, a breathless laugh pulling its way from his chest. “You _don't_ have to do that, you know.”

“No, but I wouldn't mind doing it,” she assured him. “I won't say I exactly _want_ to because I'll be okay with whatever decision you make and it won't upset me if I don't move here. But I've spent my whole life in Chicago with your sisters. I'd like to see you more.”

Derek opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure what to say, before finally settling on a quiet “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet,” Fran said with a laugh. “I haven't decided on anything for sure. That depends on what you and Spencer want.”

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, Fran content to look out the window as Derek drove. Derek spent the drive lost in thought, going over all the choices and scenarios their discussion had brought up. If he and Spencer wanted to keep their jobs, Fran would pack herself up and move so she could be with Michaela when they were out of town. Just like that. He knew his mother loved him but for her to do something so big just because they had a baby now floored him.

But what if he and Spencer didn't want to keep their jobs at the BAU and took other jobs? Would she still want to come to Virginia to look after Michaela while they worked during the day? What if she wanted to get a job here, too? Derek couldn't imagine his mother sitting at home all day.

And if he and Spencer did leave the BAU, what would they do? Spencer could be a professor somewhere if he wanted, Derek was sure. The younger man was smart enough and with the five degrees he had, he had his choice of subject to teach. Derek could move to a different unit of the FBI that would give him regular hours so he could be home by five o'clock every night but he couldn't imagine himself with a different team. And if he left the FBI, he couldn't see himself going into law enforcement again. He'd seen too many cops lose their lives and leave behind wives and children.

He idly wondered if he could be happy being a stay-at-home parent while Spencer went off to work each morning. But he wasn't sure what he'd do with himself all day while Michaela slept. They kept the house pretty clean already so that wouldn't last very long. And Derek Morgan did _not_ do soap operas. The only pleasant things he could think of would be seeing his daughter all day and having an awesome dinner ready when Spencer got home each night. No, he finally decided, staying at home wasn't for him.

So what would he do if he left the FBI?

They finally pulled into the driveway and Derek cut the engine. Before he could get around to open the door for his mother, Fran was already out and moving toward the trunk. With a chuckle, Derek opened it for her and pulled out her suitcase while she took her smaller bag. He shut the trunk and preceded her up the walkway to open the door for her.

“He might still be asleep,” he warned in a whisper as they stepped into the silent house. Clooney wasn't even there to greet him at the door which furthered his guess that Reid was napping. The dog was probably in his place on the bedroom floor.

When Morgan had bought the three bedroom house, he'd made one of the extra bedrooms into a guest room and the other became his office. His office was now Michaela's nursery since it was the one closer to the master bedroom. It was to the bedroom furthest down the hall that he led his mother.

“I'm going to check on Spencer,” he said as he deposited her suitcase at the foot of the bed for her.

“Okay, baby,” she said, already opening the drawers on the empty dresser and putting her clothess away.

Derek paused in the doorway, watching her. It seemed like she brought more clothes than was necessary for a week or two. “How long were you planning on staying?” he asked.

“As long as you and Spencer need,” she said cryptically, smiling even though she didn't turn to look at him.

Derek chuckled as he left the room and went back up the hallway. The door to their room was partially open and he pushed it a bit further to peer inside. He had to bite his lip to hold back a laugh at what he saw. Spencer lay on Derek's half of the bed and facing the middle, curled around Clooney with one arm draped over the dog's back. Clooney snored lightly, uncaring about Spencer's proximity. Derek could hear Michaela's soft breathing from her bassinet.

He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed at Spencer's back and began rubbing small circles across his back. “Spencer,” he called gently. He felt bad for waking his boyfriend when he'd been so exhausted this morning but he knew Spencer wanted to be awake to see Fran instead of making her wait for him to wake up.

Spencer gave a short hum, half a protest and half questioning, and snuggled closer to Clooney.

“Spencer,” Derek called again, drawing out his name a little longer and changing the circles to rubbing up and down his spine. “I'm back with Mama.”

“Hmkay,” Spencer mumbled, a hand coming up to rub his eyes before he turned over and wiggled closer to Derek.

Derek chuckled and began rubbing his hand up and down Spencer's arm since his back was away from him now. “You don't have to get up,” he assured quietly. “I'm sure Mama will understand.”

“No, I want to get up to see her,” Spencer mumbled, still not opening his eyes. “Wish I could have coffee...”

“I know,” Derek murmured, removing his hand as Spencer slowly pushed himself upright.

Clooney lifted his head and turned in their direction then inched his way toward Derek and gave his hand a lick before hopping off the bed and trotting for the door.

“I think Clooney is ready to get up,” Derek said with a laugh.

Spencer nodded with a soft smile and rubbed his eyes before finally standing. He glanced at Michaela then grabbed the monitor when he saw she was still sleeping, turning it on as he slipped from the room. Derek gently pulled the door closed behind himself and went back to the guest room to check on his mother. Not finidng her in the bedroom, he took Spencer back toward the living room, spotting her at the kitchen island. She had a steaming cup of water and a gift bag sat at the edge of the island.

“Mama?” he asked as the two entered the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Making tea,” she said, holding up the plastic baggie of teabags with one hand, the other pushing a bag into a cup of steaming water with a spoon. “I knew you only had coffee so I brought some of my own.” Setting the bag down, she turned a warm smile on Spencer. “Hello, Spencer. How are you feeling?”

“Hello, Fran. I'm okay. Tired,” he admitteed, running his hands up and down the baby monitor's sides.

“Well, I'm here to help with that,” she assured, reaching across the island to place a hand over his wrist for a moment before straightening and looking at Derek. “Where has Michaela been sleeping?”

“We have a bassinet in our room,” Derek explained.

“Is it easy to move?”

Derek frowned in confusion at the question and shrugged. “I'm not sure. Garcia and I put it together yesterday while Spencer was in the hospital. We didn't have to move it much. I'm sure it can't be that heavy. Why?”

“Because we're putting her in the guest room tonight,” Fran said. “I'll get up with her and let you two get a full night's sleep.”

Spencer's eyes widened and he shook his head slightly. “What if she gets hungry? I'm the only one that can feed her.”

“I've brought you something,” Fran assured, pushing the bag toward Spencer. “The larger box in the bottom is yours. The smaller is for Michaela.”

Spencer blinked at her in surprise then pulled out the smaller gift box and setting it aside to reach the larger box in the bottom. It wasn't wrapped so as soon as he peered into the bag he saw it. Frowning, he pulled it out and set the bag aside to place the box in front of himself.

“A pump?” he asked, blinking at her.

“I'm not trying to take away your time with Michaela,” Fran assured. “But I thought, at least at night, it might be beneficial to have some bottles so Derek can feed her and let you sleep,” she explained. “It would come in handy tonight as well since I plan to take her for the night.”

Spencer ran a finger down each side of the box as he contemplated the pros and cons of using the pump. Logically, he knew it shouldn't be such a hard decision. But it felt like he was giving up time with his daughter. Only a day old and he loved her so much. Feeding time was quiet time where he could hold her close and care for her. So why was he hesitant to use the pump? Because if they had bottles of milk for her, _Derek_ could be the one to cuddle her close and give her what she needed.

“Okay,” he said quietly with a nod. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Fran nodded with a pleasant smile and gently slid the box away to push the smaller box toward him. “Now, this one is for Michaela. But, of course, she's too young to open it so you get the honors.”

Derek chuckled as he watched his mother. She almost reminded him of Garcia. He shifted a bit closer to Spencer as the younger man pulled off the lid of the gift box and pulled out what was inside. It was a onesie with long sleeves that had lipstick prints dotted over the front with the words “Grandma was here” underneath. There was alos a little white hat that had a large lipstick print on it. Derek chuckled as Spencer held it up to look at it.

“Isn't it cute?” Fran cooed. “She might be too small for it now but she'll grow into it.”

Spencer lowered it back into the box and sniffed a few times. The sound had the other two frowning but before either could say anything, he was fully sobbing, pressing a hand over his eyes.

“Hey, hey, pretty boy,” Derek whispered as he gently coaxed Spencer into his arms. The younger man willingly leaned into his boyfriend, slipping his arms around him and burying his face into Derek's shoulder. “What's the matter?”

“I-I'm sorry,” Spencer whispered. “I appreciate the help and the clothing is nice and I'm sure I'm going to like having your mom here, really. It's just...” He sniffed and pulled away enough to slip his arms between himself and Derek, curling his hands into Derek's t-shirt and staring at his hands. “I miss my mom. I want _her_ help, too. I want _her_ to see Michaela, too. She's just as much Michaela's grandmother as your mom is.” His lip wobbled and he took a few hitched breaths, trying not to cry.

“I know, Spencer,” Derek whispered, running his hands up and down Spencer's back. “Maybe we can take Michaela to see her. And even if it's one of those days where she doesn't remember you, I'm sure she'll still love Michaela. Who can't love that beautiful baby girl, huh?” he said with a grin, coaxing a smile from the younger man.

Spencer nodded and brought a hand up to wipe his eyes. “Okay. We can try.”

“Good.” Derek pressed a quick kiss to his lips then loosened his grip so Spencer could settle into his seat properly.

“I'm sorry,” he said again, offering Fran a small smile.

“Oh, honey, it's okay,” she assured, rounding the island to stand beside him, holding her arms open a bit. “May I?” At his nod, she gently enveloped him into her arms and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I understand wanting your mother. And never apologize for crying, sweetie. It's normal after having a baby.”

Derek's phone buzzed on the counter and the two glanced at it as he picked it up and answered with a grin.

“Hey, baby girl.” He paused and his smile fell and his expression became one of uncertainty as he glanced at Spencer. “The team is on their way back,” he said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I have unsteady hours at work and don't always have much time before work and am too tired after work to do any writing. So I use my days off which have been one at a time before diving back into another stretch of days and since I have so many WIPs, I don't always get very far. But I'm always so happy when I do get another chapter finished!
> 
> I don't really know what kind of house Morgan has. I remember one time they were working with the CIA and the one guy brought up an x-ray kind of image of the house and Morgan made a comment that Clooney was on the couch when he wasn't supposed to be or something. So for the purposes of this fic, I'm just kind of tailoring the house to what I need, haha. Also, pretty sure they've never said what kind of dog Clooney is but I always imagine him as a bigger breed. And with tan-ish fur.
> 
> Also, I think the way I name the two (Morgan vs Derek and Reid vs Spencer) keeps changing throughout this story. I usually go by surnames except when the two are referring to each other since they're a couple. But adding in Fran, using Morgan's surname just doesn't work well for me since that's her last name, too. So I somehow wound up just going first names completely. So, sorry if the constant changing bothers anyone.
> 
> I'm also not 100% sure how Fran acted in the series since she was only in one episode and it's been a long time since I've seen it so I'm just kind of making her my own. I've only seen one other fic that even had her in it, so...


	5. Chapter 5

Michaela woke shortly after Garcia's call so Spencer disappeared into the nursery to take care of her once he collected her from the bedroom. He took Fran's gifts with him, wanting to hide the pump and planning to fold and put away the onesie. He felt bad for his outburst in front of Fran. Of course he was happy to have her help and he hadn't meant for it to seem like he didn't want _her_ around. He just really missed his mother. It didn't help that he knew his emotions would be stronger for a time after Michaela's birth. He made a mental note to do a little research to find out what other emotions were common and how long this would last.

When Garcia called, she'd said the team had solved their case and was flying back to Quantico. They'd return to the office for debriefing and to finish up some paperwork then, if Spencer was up for it, they wanted to come see Michaela. They weren't due to land until early evening so he didn't have to decide just yet.

He wasn't sure what to do until they got there. Except for the night before when it was just him and Derek, they hadn't really been alone since Michaela's birth. Fran was still there, of course, but the house was calm and nothing needed to be done. Spencer found it hard to fall back into a state of pre-baby normalcy.

“What would you have done on a day off before Michaela that didn't require leaving the house?” Fran asked.

Spencer thought about it for a moment then shrugged. “Read. Or Derek and I might watch a movie.”

“I'm down for a movie,” Derek agreed, offering his boyfriend a warm smile.

“Then why don't you try one of those,” she'd suggested. “Go take a relaxing bath, spend some time to yourself while you have a chance. Derek and I can make lunch and then you two can settle in for a movie.”

So Spencer disappeared into the bathroom and Derek joined his mother in the kitchen to make lunch, taking the baby monitor with him. Fran suggested something small for lunch like a soup. They didn't have anything to make it from scratch the way she'd have preferred to do for her boys but Derek did find a can of chicken noodle in the cupboard that they heated.

“I've missed being in the kitchen with you, Mama,” Derek admitted, leaning against the counter as they waited for the soup to warm.

“I have, too,” Fran agreed, smiling at her son. “Maybe later in my visit, when Spencer is feeling a bit more like himself, you and I could cook him a nice dinner,” she suggested.

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “I don't get many chances to cook him real dinners. With how much we travel for work, it's usually takeout or some place with the whole team when we get back.”

“Well, you and Spencer decide what you want and I'll make up a list and do some shopping. You two don't have to worry about anything while I'm here,” she announced.

“Mama, you're going to spoil us,” Derek said with a laugh. “What are we going to do when you leave?”

“You'll know what to do,” she assured. “It's my job to help you both learn and instinct will tell you what to do. You may not have been able to prepare beforehand but that doesn't mean you're different from any other parents now. You'll get it.”

“Thanks, Mama,” Derek said before placing a kiss to her cheek.

“So,” Fran said in that tone that Derek knew meant she was trying to get information. “Whose last name did you give Michaela?”

“Ah, well, about that... I thought we'd hyphenate our names with his first since he gave birth to her, but, ah, he said he wanted to give her just mine,” he explained.

“She's Michaela Morgan and not Reid-Morgan? Derek,” she said, drawing his name out in that way only a mother can that always elicited a knot of apprehension. “You've always been a smart boy. Please tell me you understand what that boy was trying to tell you by offering to give your daughter _your_ name.”

“Relax, relax, I know what he meant. We agreed that we _want_ to but I don't think you can technically say we're engaged yet. I want to wait a couple weeks to let Spencer get back to his old self and let things with Michaela settle first before starting another big event,” he explained.

“See, I told you. You've always been a smart boy,” Fran said, patting his cheek before tugging him into a firm hug. “Still, I'm so happy for you both!”

“Is this about Michaela still?” Spencer asked with a small laugh as he entered the kitchen. His hair was still damp from his bath and he'd changed into a pair of his khakis and a button down shirt. The clothes made him feel more like himself and the shirt would be easy to remove for feedings with Michaela.

Fran pulled away and turned her grin to Spencer. “Derek just told me you two are practically engaged.”

Spencer's eyes widened and he began fiddling with the ends of his shirt. He narrowed his eyes at Derek and huffed, dropping his hands to his sides again. “Why would you tell her that?” he snapped. “We're _not_! I-I don't mean I don't _want_ to – I do. I thought we both agreed we wanted to but it wasn't official. _Don't_ go around telling people we are, Derek!”

“Whoa, easy, Spence.” Derek took a cautious step toward his boyfriend with his hands raised in a placating gesture. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to do.

“Don't treat me like an unsub!” Spencer growled. “If you're going to come closer, just _do it_.”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry,” Derek said softly as he fully crossed to his boyfriend and placed his hands on Spencer's biceps. “I didn't mean to treat you like that. And I didn't tell Mama we're engaged. I told her exactly what you just said – that we wanted to but weren't yet. I fully intend to propose properly, pretty boy, I promise. I just thought it might be best to wait a few weeks, let you feel like yourself again and let our lives calm down into a routine with Michaela.”

“Spencer,” Fran said quietly from behind Derek and Spencer flicked his gaze to look at her, trying to keep any heat out of the look. He wasn't angry with _her_. “I didn't mean it to sound like he said you _were_. I was just happy that you both were thinking about it. I'm sorry.”

Spencer flicked his gaze back to Derek for a moment then sighed and leaned forward to press his face into Derek's neck. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this! I feel like crying all the time and then I get angry over something stupid. Before, I'd have realized she said 'practically,' meaning not exactly but intending to.”

“It's not stupid, honey,” Fran assured. “Your emotions are going to be all over for a couple weeks. That's normal. Just remember, the positives are just as strong as the negatives. You'll look at your baby and she'll yawn or sneeze and that will bring a wonderful, natural high for you. And it only lasts a week or two. Before you know it, little things won't send you into fits of crying anymore.”

Spencer smiled wistfully as he thought about Michaela. He remembered watching her sleep for a moment the night before when Derek was taking Clooney for his walk. Even just sleeping, their daughter was beautiful and he'd felt a rush of love for the infant.

“Ah, Spence,” Derek said quietly. “I think you're leaking.”

Spencer pulled away and looked down to see two wet spots on his shirt. He made a frustrated noise and anxiously pulled a hand through his hair. “I was thinking of Michaela. Last night, when you took Clooney for his walk, I watched her sleep for a moment before getting ready for bed. I remember feeling a deep love for her. Thinking of her must have triggered a let down of milk. I'll be right back,” he mumbled before disappearing.

“Come on, let's get lunch ready while he's changing,” Fran said. “It should be warm now.”

While Spencer changed his top, the two Morgans filled bowls with soup and put them on a tray with some silverware. Well, Derek filled bowls and prepped the tray. Fran pulled out her phone and began tapping away.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, trying to peer over her shoulder without being too nosy.

“Looking something up,” she said distractedly. “I know how much Spencer likes his coffee and I know some doctors say you can't have _any_ caffeine but I'm sure small amounts is okay.”

“Won't it get through the milk and bother Michaela?” Derek asked.

“Well, since she was a surprise, I'm assuming Spencer kept drinking coffee like usual while he was pregnant,” she explained. “I'd say she's used to it. Small doses won't hurt her.” After a moment, she grinned and flipped the phone around to show him. “Thought so. Doctors' opinions vary but they've settled on a range of one-hundred to five-hundred milligrams a day and to watch for signs the baby isn't sleeping well anymore and cut back. But to be on the safe side, he should fill some bottles before drinking any caffeine. That way, if it does bother her, you have 'clean' milk as a backup while his system clears.”

Derek grinned as he read through the information she was telling him. “He's going to love that.”

“Love what?”

Derek turned to grin at his boyfriend as Spencer returned, wearing a different colored button down shirt. “You _can_ have caffeine.”

“I can?” Spencer asked, coming closer to scan through what Fran was showing him. “I guess it's a good thing you brought a pump,” he said when he was finished. “I'd like to do that soon then. I _really_ want coffee.”

“I'll help you after lunch,” Fran agreed. “You two go eat and enjoy your movie. I'll go get the bottles that came with it and get them sterilized just to be safe. After your movie, you can get comfortable and pump.”

So that was how they spent the afternoon. They ate lunch and while the boys cuddled and watched a movie, Fran disappeared into the nursery and kitchen to prepare. When the movie was over, she took Spencer back to the nursery while Derek cleaned up their lunch dishes. At first, Spencer was disappointed that he'd only managed to produce a little over an ounce and a half but Fran assured him he hadn't hit his peak yet and it was normal to produce less in the first few days. Michaela wouldn't eat much more than an ounce at a time right now anyway. And the more he fed her and pumped, the more he'd produce.

Satisfied that they had _some_ milk for her overnight, Spencer went straight for the coffeemaker to get coffee made. He started with a small cup, conscious of his daughter. Knowing he would still feed her himself, he didn't dare flood himself with caffeine like before she was born. Guilt washed over him at the thought that he'd been drinking coffee like he always did while he was pregnant with her. If he'd _known_ , he wouldn't have had as much as he always did. As the coffeemaker ran, he felt tears sliding down his face.

“Are you _that_ happy to have your coffee?” Derek asked with a laugh. His smile fell as he realized his boyfriend wasn't _happy_ , but genuinely upset. “Hey, what's the matter?” he asked as he rubbed soothing circles across Spencer's back.  
“I feel guilty for having had as much coffee as I do while I was pregnant. What if I messed up our daughter?” he asked, turning wide, fearful, wet eyes up at Derek. “If I had known...”

“You wouldn't have had as much,” Derek concluded. “I know. But you didn't know so don't beat yourself up over what ifs. Michaela is fine. The doctors checked her over when we got to the hospital, remember?”

“I know,” Spencer mumbled, wiping at his eyes. “I just hate the idea that I could have hurt her at all. I love her so much.”

“I know, pretty boy,” Derek agreed, kissing his temple. “I do, too. She's okay. You can go check for yourself if you want to.”

Spencer bit his lip in indecision. Logically, he knew Michaela was fine, fast asleep in their bedroom. He could hear her breathing through the baby monitor that never strayed far from his grasp. But his mind wouldn't stop buzzing until he _saw_ her, too. Finally deciding, he nodded and slipped out of the kitchen and hurried down the hall. He quietly pushed the door open and stepped inside and over to the side of the bassinet.

Michaela was as he'd left her for her nap earlier. Her little pink blanket covered her lower half, far enough down that it wouldn't get up onto her face. One little fist was up by her head which was turned to one side. Cautiously, so as not to wake her, Spencer reached down and placed a few fingertips on her chest. He felt her heartbeat and the sensation calmed him. His daughter was perfectly fine.

Relief washed over him and he sighed as the tension left him. He quietly slipped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind himself. When he returned to the kitchen, Derek was pouring a cup of coffee.

“She's okay,” he announced unnecessarily. Derek knew she was fine. It had only been him worrying.

“I told you she was,” Derek said gently, handing him the coffee. “Feel better now?”

Spencer nodded before taking a sip. He moaned at the warmth and the taste then blushed for it. “Sorry. A day without coffee and I already really missed it.”

Derek only chuckled and kissed his temple.

Clean and fed and caffeinated, Spencer felt more like himself. At least for a little while. He knew his emotions would probably wreak havoc on him soon enough or he'd leak and have to change his shirt again. But for now, he was happy.

They decided to watch another movie, Fran joining them this time. Halfway through, Michaela's crying came from the baby monitor on the coffee table but before Spencer could go get her, Fran was up and waving him back into his place beside Derek.

“You always rush for her when she cries. Let me get her this time. If she's hungry, I'll bring her to you,” she assured.

Spencer nodded but kept his eyes firmly on the monitor instead of the movie as if he could _watch_ Fran with Michaela. He felt a little anxiety any time it wasn't _him_ that went to the baby when she cried. But just like the night before, as Michaela's cries calmed as her grandmother tended to her, Spencer's anxiety receded. He sighed and settled more comfortably into Derek's side.

“Am I ever _not_ going to worry when she's out of my sight?” he mumbled, not really expecting an answer.

Derek had his arm around Spencer and began rubbing his arm. “I'm sure you will. But she's less than two days old. You're allowed to be anxious. But Mama had three babies; she knows what she's doing. Michaela is okay.”

Fran emerged a moment later with Michaela in her arms. Assuming the baby was hungry, Spencer sat up straighter, eyes locked on his daughter. When Fran settled into her seat instead of passing the infant over, Spencer frowned in confusion and watched them.

“She's fine, Spencer,” Fran assured. “She doesn't seem hungry. But she's not sleepy enough to go back to sleep so I brought her out here.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Spencer leaned back into Derek again, still watching the baby. “I guess you haven't been able to see her much since you arrived. She's been sleeping.”

“Yes, but that's okay. Newborns will sleep. I can see her now though,” she cooed as she looked back down at her granddaughter. “Can't I, sweet pea?”

Michaela yawned, the action producing a small squeak, then stared up at her grandmother, her mouth open as if she wanted to smile. The squeaky yawn was just too adorable and Spencer found himself laughing, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. Their daughter was beautiful and happy and healthy. He wanted to hear her laugh and see her smile all the time.

Not long after the second movie finished, Derek's phone buzzed. By the greeting, Spencer knew it was Garcia again and he paid close attention, assuming the team was ready to come visit. Sure enough, Derek turned to him and spoke in a low voice that Spencer knew Garcia cold hear anyway.

“You feeling up to seeing the team, pretty boy?”

Spencer nodded with a soft smile. “I feel okay.”

Derek relayed the go ahead to Garcia who assured him she'd let the team know and they'd be over soon. He hung up and put his phone back on the coffee table before wrapping an arm around Spencer again.

“I know having that many people around can be overwhelming,” he said, running his fingertips up and down Spencer's arm again, an unconscious gesture of comfort that Spencer liked. “If it gets to be too much, don't feel bad for saying so. They'll understand.”

“I know,” Spencer assured him. “I really do feel okay at the moment. But if I need a minute, I'll say so.”

By the time the team arrived, Michaela was still awake though Spencer could tell she wouldn't be for long. Though with the excitement of so many people wanting to hold her, he feared she wouldn't get to sleep anytime soon. He knew she was bound to be hungry soon, too. She hadn't eaten since just before Derek left to pick up Fran. He was afraid an overtired, cranky baby was in their future.

Hoping to get her fed so she'd sleep and avoid a cranky baby, Spencer voiced his concerns to Fran who agreed. Once he'd removed his shirt, she helped him get comfortable with a throw pillow in his lap to help support Michaela then settled Michaela in his arms before going back into the bedroom for her blanket to cover her and Spencer's chest.

As Derek went to answer the door, Michaela was just latching on and beginning to eat. Spencer felt his face flush as the others entered the living room, feeling exposed without his shirt despite having Michaela's blanket obscuring her and part of his bare chest. When the two were settled, she excused herself, saying she'd let them have their time alone with their team, and disappeared to her room despite Spencer's protests that she didn't _have_ to.

Garcia was the first to enter but she stepped off to the side to let the others go first since she'd already seen Michaela. She was definitely going to take a turn though. She'd just go last. It was actually Hotch that came closest first. This didn't completely surprise Spencer since Hotch had a son already.

“Looks like we've interrupted dinner,” he teased, sitting on the opposite end of the couch while Rossi sat on the arm beside Hotch, both completely unphased by Spencer's bare chest which actually calmed the younger man's nerves.

Spencer smiled affectionately as he looked down at his daughter's face against his chest and brought his free hand up to touch the fist she had curled against his skin. At the touch of his finger, she opened her fist and grabbed onto it. “That's okay. She'll fall asleep and be completely unaware of you all taking your turns holding her.”

“What does it feel like?” JJ asked, sitting in one of the armchairs. Garcia took the other chair and Prentiss sat on the arm beside JJ.

Spencer huffed in slight annoyance. He didn't mind answering baby questions; he'd just already answered that one for Garcia. “It's like a tugging while she sucks. Slight and non-painful. If it hurts, she's latched wrong and I have to help her latch properly.”

“Does that happen a lot?” she asked.

“It did the first few times while I was still at the hospital,” he explained. “But I think she's realized what she's doing and we haven't had a problem feeding.”

“Does she have a middle name yet?” Garcia asked.

“No,” Derek said, leaning against the back of the couch behind Spencer and smiling down at Michaela. “We haven't really discussed it.”

“Well, do you want any family names? Maybe one of your mothers' names?” Prentiss suggested.

Spencer immediately shook his head. “I don't want to have to choose. It's unfair to whomever we don't name her after. And if, when she's older, we decide to have more, we can't guarantee another girl to name after the other mother.”

“Is there anyone else you'd like to name her after?” JJ asked. “Or a letter you want it to start with? Like keeping her initials all M's or not.”

Spencer and Derek glanced at each other then Derek shrugged. “I don't think lettering matters. And I can't think of any other woman I'd wanna name my daughter after other than my mama.”

“Actually, I think there is someone whose name might sound good as a middle name,” Spencer said quietly, looking down at Michaela who was just sucking sleepily, finished eating. “But I don't know if it's strange to want to name our daughter after her.”

“Who is it?” Derek asked.

“Melanie.”

“The nurse at the hospital?” Garcia asked.

“Yeah,” Spencer said, cheeks tinging pink. “I know we didn't know her much but she helped me so much, even if I was only there for a few hours. She helped me become comfortable with an infant while Derek was preparing the house.”

“I'm sorry I wasn't with you,” Derek said softly, leaning down to nuzzle into Spencer's neck and press a kiss there.

Spencer leaned away a bit but only to turn a warm smile on his boyfriend. “It's okay, Derek. I understand. We needed a space for Michaela and you did it in one day. I really appreciate what you did.”

“Michaela Melanie Morgan,” Garcia said, testing the name out for them. “What do you guys think?”

“Morgan?” Rossi said, looking at the little family. “No Reid?”

“Well, ah, after things at the hospital settled down, Spencer and I talked,” Derek said. “We agreed that getting married is something we both would like. Just not quite yet. We've just had a newborn and we both agreed waiting a little while before officially getting engaged and having to plan everything was a good idea.”

The team made agreeable noises, some nodding.

“Is that a good name?” Spencer asked, looking up at his boyfriend. “If you don't want to name her after a nurse we barely knew, I understand.”

“No, no,” Derek said, shaking his head with a soft smile. “It sounds okay to me and I understand why you want to use it. When I first came in and saw you with Michaela, you seemed so at ease and confident. And that was just a short time with Melanie's help. If that's what you want to name her, then that's her name.”

Spencer nodded. “I like it.”

“Then our baby has a full name,” Derek announced, grinning.

Spencer grinned and looked down at Michaela. She had finally let go of his nipple and was sleeping peacefully. He shifted to lay her on the couch between himself and Hotch and easily swaddled her in her blanket, looking up at Hotch as he worked.

“Would you like to hold her first?” he asked. At his boss's nod, Spencer carefully lifted her up and settled him into Hotch's arms then pulled his shirt back on.

“You're a natural, Spence,” JJ said quietly, casting a wistful smile toward Michaela. “How do you know what to do?”

Spencer shrugged then ducked his head with a sheepish smile. “I just do. I still worry that I'll make a mistake and do something wrong when it's just us again though.”

“We got this,” Derek assured, leaning down to drop a kiss to his temple.

“Hey, uh, I don't mean to stick my nose where it doesn't belong,” Rossi said slowly. He looked around the room at their team members. “But we're a family and I can't be the only one thinking of this. We all know the costs of this job to personal lives. Are you planning on coming back?” he asked, his tone and expression gentle and caring and held a little worry.

Spencer shrugged and began fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. “I don't know,” he said quietly. “I haven't thought about it. I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't work for the FBI...”

“Well, I decided I would do whatever you decided,” Derek said quietly, moving around the couch to sit between Spencer and Hotch, wrapping an arm around Spencer's shoulders. “If you wanted to stay, I'd stay. Our team is part of our family. And if you wanted to quit, I'd quit, too. I, uh... I don't want us to grow apart because one of us is working so much.” He turned to Hotch with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Hotch.”

“I understand, Morgan,” Hotch assured. “I wouldn't want you to lose one another like I lost Haley. But my job is important to me.”

“What would you do if we quit?” Spencer asked.

“I don't know,” Derek admitted with a shrug. “I know I couldn't go into law enforcement again. But I'm not sure what else I'm good at.”

“You're an awesome cook,” Garcia chirped helpfully.

“Not as good as Rossi,” Derek countered, shooting a grin toward the Italian.

Rossi chuckled and shook his head. “I'm only good at Italian food, what I grew up with.”

“I'm still not good enough to make a career out of it,” Derek said. “But you could teach somewhere, pretty boy.” He gave his boyfriend an encouraging smile.

“I'm too young to be anyone's teacher except maybe middle schoolers or elementary school kids but I don't think I could handle younger kids. I'm better suited for a college setting but I still don't think I could do _that_ ,” Spencer said, shaking his head. “Remember that case in Arizona when a college was being attacked by an arsonist and it turned out to be a young woman with religious issues from her childhood? You wanted me to speak to a few of them because I'm closer to their age,” he said, leaning around Derek to glance at Hotch who nodded. “I got too nervous and rambled. I'm too close to their age to be their _teacher_.”

“Sure you could,” Prentiss said cheerfully, grinning at him. “You just walk in there like you know what you're doing and take charge and do your teaching and they'll love you!”

Spencer watched Hotch pass Michaela to Rossi then sighed with a shrug. “I don't know...”

“Reid, that case was two years ago, you know,” Hotch offered. “You've grown up. You don't look like a college student anymore.”

Spencer sighed and began bouncing his foot against the floor in agitation. “I don't know,” he said again, a slight whine of frustration dragging out the last word. “It doesn't matter if I can or not because we're in this together – if I seem like I want to leave but Derek doesn't, then I'll feel bad for making him quit.” He looked at Derek. “And you don't even know what you'd do if we quit so why does it matter what I want or think or should do?” He huffed and pushed a hand through his hair, his breaths coming slightly quicker than normal.

“Hey, Spencer, it's okay,” Derek said quietly, wrapping his other arm around the smaller man and gently tugging him closer. “You don't have to decide right now, remember? We have a month before we need to go back, okay?”

“I can extend it to the full three months if you need to,” Hotch added quietly.

“See? Don't stress yourself out over it right now,” Derek added.

Spencer took a few deep breaths then nodded and gently pulled away. “I need a minute,” he admitted quietly. “I'm a little overwhelmed.”

Derek nodded and let his hand caress down Spencer's arm as the other man pulled away. He knew that was coming when Spencer had begun tapping his foot and fiddling with his shirt. “Okay. Take your time.”

Spencer nodded and mumbled an apology to their guests and went down the hall to their bedroom.

“Is he okay?” JJ asked, still looking toward the hall where Spencer disappeared instead of at Derek.

“Yeah,” Derek assured. “I think it's just hormones. He just needs a minute in a quiet place to decompress.”

JJ worried her lower lip between her teeth then stood. “I'm gonna go talk to him,” she announced though she looked at Derek as if looking for permission. When he just shrugged (because, really, JJ probably wasn't going to stress Spencer out more than he was so what harm could it do?), she exited down the hall, too.

She gently knocked on the door then peeked in. “Spence? Can I talk to you?”

Spencer was sitting in the center of the bed, hugging his knees. His eyes were closed but at the sound of JJ's voice, they popped open. He nodded and straightened out his legs and wiggled to sit on the side of the bed.

JJ pushed the door shut then sat beside him. She looked at him for a moment then stared down at her hands in her lap. “I didn't come to make you talk about whether to stay or leave,” she assured. “I just wanted to talk about something if you're up for it?” She looked back up at him, seeking his assent. “I just wanted us to be alone when I did.”

“Of course, JJ,” he said quietly.

“You don't have to if you don't want to, but I was just curious what it was like,” she said quietly.

“What what was like?” he asked, tilting his head.

“When you, uh, had Michaela,” she explained lamely.

“Ohhh. Well,” he hedged, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt again though it was more a thoughtful gesture than one of agitation. “At first, I had no idea what was happening. I just know that my abdomen _hurt_. Derek threatened to take me to the hospital because I was in so much pain. But he agreed to put it off if agreed to take a bath.

“The water actually made the pain recede enough that I almost fell asleep again in the bathtub.” He chuckled at the idea. “Derek left the room for two seconds to answer the phone. And suddenly there was this intense pressure and my body was pushing without my consent at first. I felt her moving and it scared me because I had no idea I was in labor. I didn't know there was a baby there. I just felt _something_.

“Once I could catch my breath, I reached down to see what was happening and I felt her head. Knowing that I was giving birth should have made the fear go away because then I _knew_ what was happening, you know?” he said, glancing at JJ with a shrug. The blond was paying close attention and she nodded in understanding before he continued. “It didn't. I felt her head and my heart started pounding and I couldn't breathe. I screamed for Derek as my body pushed down again. I tried to fight it, still terrified, but fighting it made it worse so I learned to work with the contractions.

“The pain and pressure of pushing her head was gone the second it was fully delivered. It was all moving so quickly – at least, it felt that way to me – so I still wasn't completely calm. I was still terrified. But then the rest of her came out quickly and suddenly, she was in my arms.” He folded his arms like he was holding Michaela again and stared down at them, remembering seeing her for the first time. “All the fear and pain and discomfort vanished. I... I loved her the instant I saw her.” He lifted his gaze to smile at JJ. “Ten minutes earlier, I had no idea she existed. She'd been in my arms two seconds and I loved her. Giving birth to my daughter was the single most terrifying, painful experiences in my life but it was also the most joyous and most wonderful.” He wiped at his eyes where a few tears had pooled but was grinning at JJ.

JJ grinned back and leaned over to hug him tightly. She pulled back almost instantly, laughing. “Uh, Spence, I think you're leaking.”

He brought a hand up to his shirt, feeling the damp spots and groaned in annoyance. “This is getting old. I wish my body would adjust to her already and stop leaking whenever I so much as _think_ about her.”

“It's only been less than two days,” JJ pointed out, still grinning at him. “You'll get there.” She stood and crossed back toward the door. “I'll leave you alone to change.” He nodded, smiling back, and she pulled the door open. Before she slipped out, she turned back and her smile was less amused and more peaceful. “Thanks for sharing your story with me, Spence.”

“Of course,” he said quietly, returning her smile.

She slipped from the room and Spencer changed his shirt. Again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haaa, I told someone who commented on Ch4 that Ch5 would be up in 3-4 days but BOOM! Next day! So proud! Also, are chapters too short? I shoot for roughly 8-9 pages (they usually come out to a little over 8 though this one was almost a full 9) in my favorite word processor but I feel once they're posted, they're just SHORT. If people want longer chapters, I'll try to make them longer. I'd say that'd probably make waiting for chapters longer but, obviously, the times between posting varies so much already, depending on my luck, so...
> 
> Originally, I didn't have a set season for this since it was supposed to be a one-shot. I always imagined Reid with his shoulder length hair (I love that style; so adorable!) and I like the team lineup with Rossi and Prentiss best which means it has to be set in at least season 3 because Rossi doesn't show up until 3x06. Which is where I intend to set this, in case anyone needed to know. It is an AU, obviously, but I'm trying to keep canon somewhat so, if I did my research right, JJ is pregnant about this time but they don't know yet and don't know she's been dating Will. But, as I said, it's an AU so I'm playing with timeline to suit my needs, haha.


	6. Chapter 6

The team only stayed for a couple of hours, everyone getting their turns with Michaela. No one seemed to notice that JJ seemed to have the longest turn and her contribution to the conversation became almost nonexistent as her attention was so consumed by the infant. By the time they decided to leave, Spencer was clearly becoming sleepy. Derek had no doubt this had something to do with Hotch’s decision to leave. Hotch and Rossi helped Derek move Michaela’s bassinet to Fran’s room for the night before goodbyes were made. They all made plans to get together for dinner in the next week the next time the remainder of their team wrapped up a case.

When they left, Fran rejoined them, waving off Spencer’s apologies and assurances that she didn’t _have_ to have gone to her room that whole time. She said their team deserved their own time with Michaela and she’d been meaning to finish a book she’d been reading anyway. She cooked for them again, a simple meal that was light and quick, promising to do some shopping the next day.

After dinner, Fran shooed the new parents off to bed, seeing how Spencer could barely keep his eyes open. She cleaned up the kitchen and straightened the living room then went to her room to read before bed though her gaze kept straying to her granddaughter who slept soundly.

Spencer managed to sleep for a couple of hours then was wide awake. Only one night and he couldn’t sleep knowing Michaela was in another room. She wasn’t _right there_ for him to check on. If she cried, he wouldn’t know and couldn’t get to her as quickly. He knew Fran was going to take care of her tonight so he and Derek could get a full night’s sleep but he still found himself wide awake with worry.

He glanced at Derek, finding his boyfriend fast asleep and snoring lightly. Not wanting to wake Derek and make them _both_ tired in the morning, Spencer carefully slipped from the bed and went out into the hall. He looked toward Fran’s room but heard nothing to indicate his daughter was even awake let alone needing him so he continued on to the living room.

As he entered the living room, he saw Fran in the kitchen, slowly making circuits around the island with Michaela in her arms, the little bottle of milk Spencer had managed to pump in one hand. Fran stopped when she saw him and smiled warmly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

Spencer shook his head and sat at the island, leaning on an elbow as he watched Fran feed his daughter. “I can’t sleep knowing she’s not in the same room,” he admitted.

“Welcome to parenthood,” she said. “You’re going to spend the rest of your life worrying about her.”

“It gets easier, doesn’t it?” Spencer asked quietly.

“You’ll learn to trust others to look after her and won’t worry _every_ time she’s out of your sight,” Fran assured him.

“I don’t think I can trust anyone but Derek, our team, and our mothers,” he admitted quietly, pushing a hand through his hair. “With our jobs, we’ve seen the worst of humanity and how someone you trust can turn on you. What if we send her to school and her teacher – someone we trust to look after her – rapes her or kidnaps her?”

Fran was silent for a moment as she settled herself on the stool beside him, placing the now empty bottle on the counter top. What was she supposed to say to that? Every parent worried for their child but for Spencer and Derek, their jobs were going to make it even harder to let go. But the two had spoken of their boss and how he had a son. Maybe she wasn't the best person to talk to about this despite her willingness and desire to help.

“I think,” she said slowly, choosing her words and tone carefully, “maybe this is a subject you should talk to Agent Hotchner about. I don't know what it's like to know what you all know but he does and he has a child. He could help you better than I can, sweetie.”

After a pause, Spencer nodded. “I guess you're right. Thank you,” he said, offering her a small, quick smile. Then his eyes fell on his daughter and he sighed. “I still don't know how I'm going to sleep with her in a different room.”

“You know I've got her, Spencer,” Fran assured him. “She'll be fine until morning and then you can have her all you'd like,” she added with a teasing grin.

He couldn't help but laugh, just a couple huffs of soundless breath. It may have taken waking up and seeing Fran with Michaela but Spencer felt calmer. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I think I'll be okay now. I trust you – that was never the issue. I just...”

“I know, baby,” she assured, reaching a hand out to rest on his shoulder for a moment. “Go back to bed. Michaela and I are about to head back to bed, too.”

Spencer nodded and cast one last affectionate smile toward his sleeping daughter before returning to bed. As he slipped under the blanket and wriggled closer to Derek, the other man tossed an arm around Spencer's waist, his hand landing on Spencer's hip.

“Feeling better, pretty boy?” he mumbled sleepily.

“You're awake?”

Derek hummed an affirmation. “Not for long though. I don't know what made me wake up but when I did, your side was empty. I assumed you needed to check on Michaela and see for yourself that she's fine with Mama.”

“Yeah,” Spencer admitted with an embarrassed laugh, feeling his cheeks heat up. “But I know she's fine with your mother.”

“Good.”

The two were quiet for several minutes before Spencer rolled to face Derek and pressed himself flush against his boyfriend. “Derek?” he whispered.

“Mm?”

“I want to see my mom,” he whimpered, lip wobbling. “But Michaela is way too little. She should be at least a month old before traveling. But… I want to see my mom,” he repeated breath hitching before he sniffled, tears sliding down his face. Angrily, he wiped at his eyes. “I’m so sick of crying all the time!”

“Hey, hey,” Derek called gently, brushing Spencer’s hair back and wiping the tears from his face with loving caresses of his thumbs. “First, there’s nothing wrong with crying and there’s nothing wrong with _you_ for doing so. You’ll feel better in a week or two, remember?” He wrapped his arms around Spencer and tugged so Spencer was lying atop him, chest-to-chest, and rubbed his back.

Spencer made a surprised noise at being tugged _on top of_ Derek but sighed and relaxed into his boyfriend, nuzzling into Derek’s neck as he continued speaking.

“Second, just because we can’t fly out to see her right now doesn’t mean she won’t ever meet Michaela. Besides, waiting until Michaela is older also gives you time to feel more like your old self. Why don’t you tell her about Michaela in a letter?” he suggested, dropping his voice to a lower tone in hopes that it might help soothe Spencer back into sleep. “We can even take a new picture of her with you if you’d like since you were bare chested in the one Garcia took for the team.”

Spencer was quiet long enough that Derek thought he’d finally fallen back to sleep. When he spoke, it was just above a whisper. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to at least try writing something.”

“Of course not. Now,” Derek said, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s temple. “Try and go back to sleep, okay? Mama took Michaela with her just so we could sleep. You’re not allowed to be exhausted tomorrow.”

Spencer huffed a laugh and nuzzled into Derek with a sigh.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep. The next thing he was aware of was being gently shaken awake. As consciousness slowly sunk in, he heard Derek calling his name in a low voice. Behind that, he could hear Michaela crying. The latter was the sound that jolted him into full awareness and he sat up quickly, looking around for his daughter.

“Whoa, easy, pretty boy,” Derek said, gently grasping a shoulder.

“Where’s Michaela? That cry means she’s hungry. Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” Spencer rambled, shrugging his boyfriend’s hand away and shoving the blanket away to scramble from the bed and rush from the room.

“Spencer, calm down,” Derek called, following after him. “She’s only been crying a minute. We checked to make sure it wasn’t her diaper or anything and realized she’s hungry. That’s why I was waking you.”

As Derek explained, Spencer kept moving. He followed the sound of his baby’s crying and hurried down the hall into the nursery. Fran was rocking in the glider with a fusing Michaela in her arms. Spencer hurried over to her and leaned down to carefully scoop his daughter into his arms.

“Give her to me,” he said with no heat to the words.

Fran willingly passed her granddaughter over and vacated the glider for him then grabbed her blanket from where it draped over her crib.

Spencer began to gently sway with Michaela, expertly holding her in one arm and grabbing the pillow with the other hand. “Hey, it’s okay, Michaela,” he cooed, seeing how she rooted against his shirt. She was definitely hungry.

He carefully settled into the glider and placed the pillow in his lap to help support Michaela then began unbuttoning his shirt with one hand. As soon as her cheek met his bare skin, Michaela began to seek out his nipple. It only took a little guiding from Spencer for her to find it and begin suckling hungrily. Spencer winced at the tugging but it faded as her sucking became less fervent.

As he watched Michaela eat, he felt a twinge in his chest. She seemed so desperate to get to the milk she needed. He hadn’t even been able to undress her or completely remove his shirt for full skin-to-skin contact. The idea that his baby had gotten that hungry in the time it took for them to realize she was hungry and wake him made his heart ache.

“From now on,” he said quietly, stroking a hand down the back of her head, “she stays in our room.”

“Spencer, she’s fine,” Derek said simply. “It only took me a minute to wake you up.”

“Derek,” Spencer snapped though he kept his voice low so it wouldn’t startle Michaela and make her stop eating. “That’s a minute too long. If I had been _right there_ , I would have woken the instant she began crying and I could have fed her properly. She needs skin-to-skin contact and a peaceful mealtime. She was in so much of a hurry to eat that I couldn’t undress us enough and it actually _hurt_ when she first started eating. And no more pumping either. I don’t like it anymore. I want to feed her myself.”

“Spencer-“

“Derek,” Fran gently interrupted, stepping into her son’s line of sight to make him look at her. “It’s Spencer’s decision how to feed the baby. If he no longer wants to pump, he doesn’t have to. Bu you have it in case he ever wants to again. And, Spencer,” she added, turning to the other male. “Don’t let one moment change your mind. Derek isn’t as in tune with Michaela as you are. It took him a little longer to understand her cries than it does for you. I’m sure once he can tell the difference and act quicker, you’ll realize having bottles of breast milk can help him help you feed her. You could have slept in if we’d had more for her, too.”

Spencer glared at the Morgans, not even trying to keep his ire in check around Fran this time. Help or not, he was angry with her, too. “So it’s _my_ fault because I can’t make enough?”

“I didn’t say that,” Fran said calmly, unaffected by Spencer’s anger. She knew he wasn’t thinking rationally right now, emotions having gone haywire. “I was just trying to point out that it will be beneficial _not_ to completely stop pumping. Think about how you like to feed Michaela. Having her snuggled up against your chest, her skin against yours. If you had bottles, she could bond with Derek just as she does with you.”

That last point cooled Spencer’s anger like a bucket of water dousing a flame. It left him with a cold realization that he was being selfish, making decisions out of fear for Michaela without thinking about how they’d affect Derek. And, really, his decision to not pump would affect Michaela, too, in the long term. Yes, she’d still get milk from Spencer, but she wouldn’t be able to bond with her other parent, too. He felt selfish and feared Derek would think Spencer assumed he didn’t love Michaela the same as Spencer did. Or, worse, that Spencer was purposely trying to deny him time with their daughter.

Before he could stop it or be angry for it, Spencer felt tears fill his eyes and begin streaming down his face. His breathing hitched several times with half formed sobs. He squeezed his eyes shut against the ache in his chest which forced more tears to fall.

“I- I’m sorry,” he whispered around sobs. When he opened his eyes, Derek was kneeling beside the glider and he reached his free arm to wrap around Derek’s neck and stared at him through a watery gaze. “I-I didn’t thi-ink. You have ju-ust as much ri-ight to feed and bo-ond with our ba-aby as I d-do. I didn’t m-mean to take that aw-way from you.”

“Shh, easy, Spencer,” Derek instructed gently as Spencer tried to breathe and talk around sobs. He wrapped an arm around Spencer’s shoulders and rubbed his thumb back and forth against the base of his neck.

“I-I know y-you l-love her just as m-mu-uch,” Spencer continued though he didn’t get to try to say more, the sobs overwhelming him. It was all he could do to just breathe around them let alone trying to talk.

As he became more distraught, Michaela stopped eating and began to whimper. Fran, sensing the tears coming, gently took her from Spencer and left the room to go calm her down away from Spencer so Derek could help _him_ calm down. Once his arms were empty, Spencer flung the other arm around Derek and buried his face into his neck. The other man slid his arms behind Spencer’s shoulders and knees and stood, scooping him from the chair and cradling him bridal style. Spencer pressed himself close and wrapped his arms tighter around Derek.

“I’m s-sorry,” he whispered.

“Shh,” Derek cooed, lowering himself into the glider with Spencer in his lap. He began rubbing circles into his back. “I know you are, Spencer. I know you didn’t make the decision to not pump out of malice toward me or to keep me from bonding with Michaela, too. You’re probably tired and you were frustrated. Mama shouldn’t have said what she said.”

“No, she’s ri-ight,” Spencer argued. He took a few deep, if rapid, breaths, trying to calm himself. “I n-need to keep doing i-it to have bottles of milk fo-or _you_ to feed h-her, too.”

“Well, she was also right to chastise _me_ ,” Derek admitted. “It’s _you_ Michaela is getting the milk from. If you want to pump or not, I should accept it and not argue.”

Spencer shook his head as he pulled away enough to meet Derek’s eyes. “No,” he said more strongly, frustration easing his sobs and making his speech clearer again. “I made the decision out of frustration and worry that Michaela was going hungry because I wasn’t _right there_ to feed her the instant she cried and because I’m paranoid of doing everything perfect so I worried not having the skin contact was going to negatively affect her. You were right to try to point out how stupid that was.”

“You’re not stupid, pretty boy,” Derek said before pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “’Stupid’ and ‘Spencer Reid’ do not belong in the same sentence,” he added with a chuckle.

Spencer rolled his eyes but laughed quietly. He took a deep breath and wiped at his wet eyes before wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck again and staring into his eyes, his own clear again. “I’m sorry, Derek.”

Derek shook his head. “No more apologies. There is nothing you need to be sorry for.”

Spencer’s breath caught at how easily Derek forgave him and before his mind could fully process the action, he was pressing his lips insistently to Derek’s. He felt Derek’s arms tighten around him and pressed himself against Derek’s chest as if he were trying to make them one being. Though intense, the kiss only lasted a handful of seconds before Spencer pulled back again, panting lightly.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” Derek replied, carding a hand through Spencer’s hair a few times more before carefully settling him on his feet and pulling himself from the glider. “Let’s get Michaela and you can finish feeding her – the way you like.”

Spencer nodded and took Derek's hand once the other man was standing. They went, hand-in-hand, out into the living room where Fran was attempting to soothe a fussing Michaela by rocking her and making circuits around the room. When she saw them, she made a beeline for Spencer and gently placed Michaela in his arms.

“She's definitely hungry. Nothing will calm her,” she explained.

Spencer frowned as he looked down at his daughter. “I'm sorry,” he whispered though he wasn't sure for what or to whom he was apologizing. He just knew his baby was hungry and upset and it could have been resolved sooner if he hadn't broken down.

“Spencer,” Fran said quietly, gently tilting his chin up so he'd meet her eyes. “Please don't apologize for getting upset. Honestly, I was expecting a major breakdown like that one. Your emotions are all over and while you freely express the anger you feel and embraced the joy of your baby yesterday evening, you always make yourself stop crying and you suppress it. Just let yourself feel and let it out, okay? Don't you feel a bit better after letting it out?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment while he assessed how he felt. Then he offered her a small, sheepish smile and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do. I feel a little worn out but still a little lighter.” Fran gave him a warm smile in return then he turned his attention to his boyfriend. Derek,” he said quietly. “Would you like to help? This shouldn't be just _me_. You should get to share in feeding time, too.”

“How can I help?” Derek asked, tilting his head.

Before Spencer could explain, Fran cleared her throat. “May I make a suggestion?” She felt it was best to ask permission than to just _give_ her suggestion since the last time she'd put in her opinion, Spencer had broken down and while he'd needed it and he'd just admitted he felt a bit better, she was hesitant to push her luck.

“Of course,” Spencer said with an encouraging smile. He didn't blame Fran for his outburst in the nursery. She hadn't said anything wrong or untrue and he wanted her to continue teaching them things he may not have though of on his own.

“While Derek may not be able to feed her just yet, he can still be part of feeding time in a way that allows you all to be close. Go run a warm bath and strip yourselves and Michaela. Spencer will, of course, hold Michaela to feed her but, Derek, you're going to wrap them both in _your_ arms,” she explained.

Spencer and Derek glanced at each other, quiet for only a second before both were agreeing. While Spencer hurried down the hall to get set up because Michaela's cries were becoming louder and he'd made her wait long enough, Derek stayed behind, turning to his mother.

“While I don't appreciate the _way_ you said what you said to get your point across that made Spencer cry, I appreciate the suggestion that will let us both help our daughter,” he said with no traces of anger. True, he was unhappy with the way the scene in the nursery played out but he couldn't bring himself to be truly angry with his mother.

“I'm sorry, Derek,” Fran said sincerely. “I really didn't mean to upset Spencer with what I said. I realize now I should have perhaps worded it differently.”

“Derek, come on!” Spencer called from down the hall.

“Go,” Fran said, nudging her son along. “We can talk later if you really want to.”

Derek nodded and hurried down the hall to the bathroom. He quickly stripped then took Michaela so Spencer could strip and step into the bath. Once he was settled in the water, Derek passed him Michaela and watched as Spencer dipped a hand into the water and ran it down her back and over her legs to get her used to the warmth. He did it a few more times and Michaela's wails tapered into repetitive hiccuping sobs. Derek stepped in and settled behind Spencer, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and daughter as Spencer relaxed into him.

He watched as Spencer expertly guided Michaela to a nipple, eyes wide in awe as she easily latched on. As he watched, he could see the movement of her mouth and throat as she sucked and swallowed. He didn't miss the way Spencer winced at first and frowned in concern.

“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

Spencer shook his head where it rested against Derek's shoulder. “She sucked a bit hard at first and the tugging was uncomfortable,” he explained.

“She must really be hungry.” He nuzzled into Spencer's neck and pressed a few kisses to the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Then he rested his chin to Spencer's shoulder and watched Michaela eat, running his hand up and down her back. “She's so beautiful,” he whispered after a moment of silence.

Spencer hummed an agreement and used his free hand to caress from the top of her head down the back of it. “Derek, I just realized something,” he said suddenly, turning his head to lock wide eyes on his boyfriend.

Derek chuckled at the expression on Spencer's face. He looked like a child who just discovered his first magic trick. Suddenly, he wondered if that was what Spencer looked like the first time he'd seen one as a child. “What did you realize, pretty boy?”

“You remodel houses,” Spencer stated as if that explained everything whirling around in his brain.

Derek's mirthful smile fell into an expression of confusion. That one sentence didn't explain anything to him. “Yeah?” he said slowly. “I do. Why?”

“Derek,” Spencer said firmly. “You _remodel houses_.”

“Spencer, I still don't-” Then his eyes widened as realization hit him. “Oh! I'm good at it and if we did leave the BAU, that could be my...” He trailed off, suddenly lost in thought.

If he was going to turn construction into his full-time job, he'd need more work. As a hobby, he'd buy a house for himself, renovate it, and sell it for profit – flipping. It was a dangerous tactic because he might not be able to sell or if he did, he might not always be gaining much profit from it.

And if he were going to make enough money to help support his family, he'd have to change his approach. Instead of flipping, he could start a legitimate construction business and do his remodeling without the necessity of buying the home first. He'd get paid to work on homes _someone else_ owned. He'd need employees to help him though, of course which was going to be a big process in its own. Flipping as a hobby meant he could take months around doing his job for the FBI to finish a house. As a construction business, he'd need to finish jobs in a timely manner.

Then there was the necessity of a business license and permits to be allowed to work on homes. He didn't doubt his ability to get those. This was something he was good at and he made sure his work was sound and stable before selling. In addition to licensing, he'd need to have several types of insurance for his business and employees to cover everything from their vehicles to worker's comp to general liability coverage.

“It'll be a lot of work to get it going,” he finally said, tone quiet and thoughtful. “It won't happen overnight.”

“No,” Spencer agreed, gaze focused on Michaela. “But it would make you happy, wouldn't it?”

“If we do leave the BAU, that would be what I choose to do,” Derek agreed with certainty. “I like doing it and it would allow me to get home at reasonable hours to see you both.”

Spencer nodded and fell silent for several minutes. When he spoke, it was quiet, almost unsure. “I think... If we did leave, I think I would like to be a college professor,” he admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think Hotch was right; I do look a little older now so I won't blend in completely with my students. Sure, I'll be young for a professor but learning interests me and I would like what I did. And I could be home each afternoon by four or five. We'd need a babysitter while the two of us are away,” he added though as he spoke and worked out his thoughts, his tone became more sure.

“Mama and I had a talk on the way home from the airport,” Derek said and Spencer eyed him curiously at the seeming non sequitur. “She said she'd move to Virginia to look after Michaela if we both wanted to keep our jobs. But I have a feeling she'd be willing to move even if we both change careers. Our team is our family and there's no one I trust more with our daughter than a group of profilers who are gun trained. But they have their jobs and aside from them, there's no one _else_ I trust as much than my mother.”

Spencer nodded thoughtfully as he listened to Derek, remembering his conversation with Fran about trusting strangers with Michaela. If she wasn't with their team, then he'd at least feel better knowing she was with someone he trusted.

“Is the decision to leave the BAU or not contingent on whether she'll still move if we leave?” he asked quietly. He felt Derek shrug around him.

“I'm not sure,” he said. “I think it shouldn't matter. We should do what we think is right for us and best for Michaela and figure everything else out as needed.”

Spencer remained quiet for a little while, just watching Michaela who was lazily sucking at his nipple even though she wasn't getting any more milk. He gently nudged her away and carefully turned her to hold her in the other arm so she could get at his other one but she didn't seem interested in any more. Deciding to pump from the other one later, he turned her back so she could resume sucking, shushing her when she whined at the repeated movement. She settled and resumed sucking.

Once she was resettled, he quietly said “It would be safer if we did leave the FBI. What if something happens to one or both of us on a case? We don't even have a plan for that. She'd probably go to Fran as next of kin because my mother isn't suitable to look after a child but what if we wanted her to go to someone from the team? But then they'd have to make the same decision.”

“Not Hotch,” Derek found himself saying even though that wasn't the point in Spencer's little speech that most needed to be addressed. “And then she'd have Jack.”

“True,” Spencer said slowly. “Who would you like her to go with?”

“I think...” Derek trailed off, thinking it through. “JJ and Hotch.”

Spencer nodded, agreeing with his choices. “Do you want to stay? We know who she'd go to if anything happens now but still...”

“Sounds to me you're leaning toward leaving, pretty boy,” Derek said gently, leaning back enough to begin skimming his hands along Spencer's biceps.

“Maybe,” Spencer agreed. “I just keep picturing past cases and thinking 'What if this happened?' or 'What if that happened?' and one of us not coming home from it. I think, if we stayed and were out in the field, my mind wouldn't be on the case. I'd be worrying for you and for me and for Michaela.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, the same thoughts running through his mind as Spencer spoke them aloud. “So... should we go talk to Mama?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, a new chapter! Morning Gift will be the one WIP I update as I write. I'm super proud of the other WIPs that I'm taking my time on to write more chapters at a time before posting but I'm taking longer than I'd like and I don't wanna leave y'all waiting indefinitely for MG. So since I'd been posting as I go with it, I'm just gonna continue along that trend with this one. I hope the slightly longer chapter makes up for the wait.
> 
> Still not fond of the title now that it's more than the one-shot I thought it would be but I still have no other ideas for one, haha.

* * *

The warm bath and a full belly lulled Michaela back to sleep. Once the three of them were dry, dressed, and with Michaela tucked into her bassinet, Spencer and Derek quietly made their way through the house to find Fran. They found her in the kitchen at the stove. A gentle sizzling filled the kitchen and when she turned to greet them, they noticed a pan on the stove and a teaspoon in her hand.

“Everything alright again?” she asked with a warm smile as the two settled at the island.

Spencer nodded, giving her a small smile. “Yes. She is fed and asleep again. Thank you for the suggestion.”

Fran waved a dismissive hand, spoon still in hand, and turned back to the pan, using her spoon to push around its contents. “I'm glad you're okay again.”

“What are you making, Mama?” Derek asked, attempting to peer into the pan from where he sat.

“Well, no one but Michaela has had breakfast. I thought I'd make some scrambled eggs,” she explained as she pulled the pan from the hot burner. Moving seamlessly through the kitchen, she pulled plates out of a cupboard and silverware from a drawer, placing them on the island in front of her boys.

The three ate in silence for several minutes before Spencer finally had the courage to speak up.

“Fran,” he said quietly, pushing his hair back behind his ears as he met her eyes. “Derek and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Fran nodded in encouragement but didn't say anything, letting Spencer say what he needed to.

“Derek told me you offered to move here,” Spencer continued. He began pushing the remainder of his eggs around with his fork, suddenly not as hungry. “You'd look after Michaela if we wanted to keep our jobs?”

Fran nodded, setting her own plate aside. She didn't rise to begin cleaning while they talked, fearing any change would break Spencer's confidence to discuss something important with her.

“Would you...” He sighed and pushed his plate away, the uneasiness rolling in his stomach chasing away his appetite. He was a trained FBI agent and he suddenly felt anxious speaking to a woman that was practically _family_! “Would you consider moving to be near us even if we quit the BAU? I think that's what we're going to do and it would make the both of us feel safer knowing you were the one looking after Michaela. We just...” He sighed and began fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt, gaze focused on the counter between them. He felt Derek place an encouraging hand between his shoulder blades. “I'm afraid something would happen to one or both of us on the job and I can't orphan Michaela like that...”

Fran was silent for a moment and Spencer feared she'd say no, that her offer was _only_ if they went back to work. But she reached across the island and gently gripped both of his hands in hers.

“Spencer,” she said, voice pitched low in a soothing tone. “Firstly, yes, I would move to Virginia to help no matter what you chose to do. Michaela is my first grandbaby and I want to be around to spoil her. But,” she added, her tone a little firmer to convey the serious nature of what she was about to say. She didn't miss the way he winced at the tone and gently gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. “Spencer. If I'm being honest, I think you're rushing making this decision. Michaela is only a few days old. I fear you're making your decision based on the emotions you're feeling rather than with the logic I know you can. Right now, it would do you good to not worry about work and just focus on yourselves and Michaela. But if you _must_ make your decision _now –_ and I hope that you will wait before you do – yes, I want to come live here and help no matter what you choose to do.”

Spencer finally lifted his gaze to meet Fran's and tugged a hand from hers to wipe at his eyes. “You will no matter what?”

She nodded and gently took his hand once he'd dropped it again. “But I want you to think long and hard about your decision. Both of you,” she added, giving her son a stern glare. “This is a big decision and Spencer's emotions aren't balanced out just yet. I don't want you to regret your decision because it was made out of emotion rather than logic. You’ve got plenty of time to decide and it doesn’t have to be decided before going back. Honestly, I think it would be a good idea if you two worked a couple of weeks or more to see how things worked out with the jobs you have. I’ll gladly stay here to look after Michaela; even if you get a case that takes you out of state for several days.”

Spencer stared at his hands still clasped in Fran’s then glanced at Derek to gauge his reaction. His boyfriend seemed to be mulling the idea over as well. He could tell by the calm expression on the older man’s face, Derek seemed to be agreeing with the idea. Spencer couldn’t shake the fear of something happening to either of them and leaving Michaela without her parents though. But no matter how badly he wanted to quit to find a safer job, he couldn’t deny the pang of sadness that stabbed at his heart at the thought of not working with his team anymore. He realized this was a harder decision than he’d thought and Fran was right in making them take the time to let things settle and to properly _think_ about it.

“Alright,” he agreed, nodding. “That sounds fair.”

“Good,” Fran said, giving Spencer’s hands a reassuring squeeze before letting go to stand and begin cleaning up the breakfast dishes. “I’m going to do a bit of shopping for you today. I should only be gone a couple of hours. Then maybe if you’re feeling up to it later, you two can get out of the house as well. Maybe go do some shopping to finish personalizing the nursery.”

~oOoOo~

The next several days passed in much the same fashion. Fran took care of her boys and her granddaughter while Derek and Spencer were allowed the time to bond with their baby. Spencer even worked out his frustration with pumping and tried it several more times in the following days. He managed to fill a few smaller bottles to be used at night which Derek readily agreed with. He reveled in the pure _rightness_ of having his daughter in his arms and feeding her, knowing his boyfriend was getting the rest he very much needed.

Michaela’s bassinet was moved out of the guest room and back into the master bedroom though. That was one thing Spencer was not willing to give in on. He would pump to allow Derek to feed her in the night but he could not shake the uneasiness he felt when his daughter was not right there. And with Fran helping out so much during the day, it felt wrong to make her wake up with the baby each night no matter how much she assured them she didn’t mind it.

As the week passed, Spencer found himself looking forward to feeling like himself more and more. But as the days went by and one week turned into a week and a half since he’d given birth, he didn’t feel like he used to. In fact, he began feeling the opposite of himself.

Before Michaela was born, he could pluck facts from thin air, recalling things he’d read in a book he hadn’t touched in _years_. Now, he found he’d walk into a room then promptly forget what it was he needed in that room to begin with. He used to be able to read a book in no time but one afternoon when Michaela was napping, he had tried settling down to read but couldn’t focus. It took him several minutes to realize he’d reread the same paragraph ten times and couldn’t recall what it said.

Anger had coiled in the pit of his stomach at his inability to focus and he’d tossed the book onto the coffee table with far less car than he had ever shown his books. Derek, who had been watching television in the adjacent chair, gave him a curious look and Spencer had felt his anger shift toward his boyfriend. Why could Derek do what he liked to do with no trouble focusing?! Why was Spencer the one on an emotional roller coaster just because _he_ had been the one to give birth?! It wasn’t fair!

He’d snapped at Derek to “stop looking at me like that” which had earned a soft, concerned “pretty boy?” and that had just grated on Spencer’s nerves. He fled to the nursery but at soon as he was surrounded by the familiar scent of his baby, his anger melted away, leaving a hollow void in his chest. Curling himself into the glider, he tugged his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knees as sobs overwhelmed him. The deep, penetrating sadness he felt in his chest prevented him from even being annoyed at crying _again_.

As Spencer cried into his knees, he felt confusion and fear prodding at the edges of his mind. Wasn’t he supposed to be getting _better_? He was supposed to be feeling more like himself. Why did it feel like he was getting worse? What if this was who he was now? No longer the bright mind he used to be but an emotional mess that felt lost in a fog.

The fear that who Spencer used to be was lost to him forever quickly morphed into anxiety. He couldn’t bear the thought of not being himself again. Sure, there were things about himself he wished were different but in general, he loved who he was and loved how his life had turned out now. He had a job he liked doing and was good at, he had a boyfriend he loved more than he’d been able to love anyone before and who loved him in return, and now he had a baby girl that he couldn’t imagine his life without no matter if he hadn’t known she existed two weeks ago.

The anxiety that he was never going to get better tied his stomach into knots and he shoved his hands between his thighs and his abdomen to wrap around his middle. But he _would_ get better, wouldn’t he? He had to. Babies were born every day and if everyone who’d given birth spiraled so out of control, chaos would erupt. This was just what being a new parent was like. Things would settle down again. Especially once Michaela slept through the night and Spencer could get more sleep, too. He was only emotional because he was _tired_.

When the crying stopped, Spencer was left with a headache, stinging eyes, and a weariness that made him want to curl up in bed for several hours. Slowly uncurling himself and rising from the glider, he wiped at his eyes. He felt a little better than when he’d first shut himself away in the nursery but didn’t feel up to sitting with Derek and Fran again. Derek would _watch_ him and even though Spencer knew it was only because his boyfriend would be worried, the thought of being stared at like he was going to fall apart any second grated on his nerves.

Maybe now was a good time to write that letter to his mother to explain that she had a granddaughter.

Spencer quietly made his way down the hall back to the master bedroom. Careful not to wake the baby, he pulled open the drawer to his nightstand and collected the stationary he used for letters to his mother. He made himself comfortable in the center of the bed and closed his eyes for moment, just listening to the reassuring sound of his baby’s gentle breathing.

Later, when Derek was sure enough time had passed that Spencer wouldn’t be angry anymore, he went in search of his boyfriend, finding him in their room. Spencer was lying across the middle of their bed facing Michaela’s bassinet, asleep. His stationary was scattered across the bedspread, a pen still loosely held in one hand. Derek noticed a few sheets stacked together, the top filled with Spencer’s handwriting. Picking them up, he thumbed through them and was pleased to see Spencer had written a letter to his mom. He smiled, hoping Spencer’s chance to write his mom a letter had eased some of the emotional distress his boyfriend had been in for the last several days.

Derek carefully set the pages on the nightstand then collected the blank papers and put them back in the drawer. He eased the pen from Spencer’s hand and set it aside as well then sat on the edge of the bed and lightly ran his hand up and down Spencer’s thigh. He watched the gentle rise and fall of the smaller man’s chest for a few beats then diverted his gaze to Spencer’s sleeping face, relaxed with sleep.

_This_ was his boyfriend. Peaceful. Not the pure anger that had been hurled at him earlier in the living room. In the time since Michaela’s birth, Derek had watched Spencer battle emotions he wasn’t used to showing. But he had never seen a flare of anger that intense come from Spencer before and if Derek were being honest with himself, it frightened him a little bit. Because Spencer wasn’t an angry man. Yes, he _got_ angry at things but never to the point of snapping at Derek like that.

His mama had assured them that Spencer’s emotions would balance out again after a week or two, that Spencer wanting to cry more often and getting a little snippier was normal. But Spencer seemed to be getting worse. Anger hadn’t been one of his strongest emotions; it was always the sadness and crying that the younger man had been battling most. Yet Derek had found himself the target of pure rage earlier in the living room. He hadn’t done anything but ask if Spencer was okay because his boyfriend and thrown his book – something Spencer never did.

Derek trusted his mother, of course. But he also knew his boyfriend like no one else did. Despite his mother’s reassurances, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was really _off_ with Spencer. But what could he do? He wasn’t sure what it could be and for all he knew, his mother was right all along and Spencer’s emotions would settle again. Feeling uneasy, he decided he’d wait a few more days. If the two week mark came and went and Spencer was still not himself, Derek would do something about it.

Spencer shifting on the bed pulled Derek from his thoughts and when he refocused on the man lying in front of him, he was met with sleepy brown eyes. His hand stilled on Spencer’s thigh but he didn’t pull it away, and he offered a calm smile.

“Hey, sleepy,” he whispered.

Spencer pressed his fingertips into his eyes then scrubbed his hand down his face before blinking at his boyfriend again. “Hey,” he whispered then pushed himself up to sit beside Derek. “I’m sorry for getting angry,” he mumbled, staring down at his hands. His hair fell forward but he made no move to fix it, letting it hide his face from Derek.

“It’s okay,” Derek assured, brushing Spencer’s hair back behind his ear the way he liked it. “I’ve been expecting reactions that aren’t like you and I knew you didn’t mean it. I was more worried about you than you being angry at me.”

Derek’s fingertips skimmed down Spencer’s cheek and the smaller man shivered at the touch, lifting his hand to clasp around Derek’s. He held it between both of his in his lap, running his fingers over Derek’s own fingers and palm; the older man let him fiddle with his hand. When Spencer finally spoke, he kept his eyes on their joined hands.

“I’m scared,” he admitted. “That anger wasn’t me. I mean” - he paused to dart his tongue out to wet his lips before continuing - “I was frustrated that I couldn’t focuson my book but the way it just seemed to evolve into such an anger that consume me and the intensity of it aren’t like _me_. And I know you were only asking if I was okay out of concern but it suddenly felt oppressive and the sound of your voice – which I usually love – just grated on my senses.” He finally lifted his gaze to meet Derek’s. “I really am sorry, Derek.”

“I know, Spencer,” Derek assured, letting his fingertips trail down Spencer’s jaw and back around his neck to gently draw him closer. When Spencer willingly wiggled closer and leaned his head against Derek’s chest, he wrapped his arms securely around his boyfriend and began rubbing his hands up and down Spencer’s spine with firm touches. “I see you wrote a letter to your mom. Did that help you?”

Spencer nodded against Derek’s chest. “Yes. I still wish I could see her but at least this way, she’ll know she’s a grandmother. And I told her about some things that worry me, too. I’m hoping she’ll have some advice.”

Derek nodded against Spencer’s temple. “That’s a good idea.”

For a moment, sitting there with Spencer in his arms, calm and quiet, Derek wondered if maybe he’d been worried for nothing. Spencer was going to be alright. He had Derek and Fran and he could always write to his mother anything he wasn’t ready to share with Derek. He had the support he needed to help himself feel better and everything would calm down as they settled into a routine with Michaela.

~oOoOo~

The two week marker came and went and the three had found a routine with Michaela. Things felt calmer around the house even if Spencer still felt out of control inside. He hadn’t felt the anger that scared him in the last few days which made him feel both relieved and worried that it would happen again. Now, he felt a little more like himself aside from bouts of depression that would overwhelm him. He was afraid to tell Derek or Fran that he still felt that way sometimes when he was supposed to be better by now.

He also found himself feeling anxious over everything. Every time he was alone with Michaela even though he knew the others were just in the next room, he found himself worrying. What if something happened to her while he was alone with her? What if she just stopped breathing and Derek blamed him? What if he dropped her because he couldn’t stop shaking?

The development of this new terrifying feeling scared him into silence as well. If he told the other two that he was feeling something new that was out of the norm for him, surely they’d think something was wrong with him. What if they decided he couldn’t be a parent? Logically, he knew Derek would never take their daughter from him, but it still scared him that he’d lose his baby if he told them how he felt.

Then it became too much for Spencer to handle.

That morning and afternoon had passed like every other day had and Spencer found himself feeling more like himself than he had in the last couple weeks. In hindsight, he realized this was the calm before the proverbial storm.

Fran had taken over most of the cooking for the two of them though Derek would help when he could, not wanting her to have to do _everything_ for them. That was how, that Saturday afternoon, he’d volunteered to join his mother grocery shopping. She’d told him he didn’t have to, that she didn’t mind, but he insisted he go along to help her at least this once.

Afraid to show weakness, Spencer had put on a brave face as he assured them he’d be fine, assuring himself they’d only be gone a couple of hours. He’d forced a small smile and promised Derek he’d call if he needed him to come home for anything; a promise he knew he wouldn’t keep.

He had been fine for the first half an hour. Then, later into the afternoon, Michaela had woken crying. As he made his way into the bedroom to check on her, Spencer told himself he could handle being alone with her. She’d just need a new diaper or to be fed and then she’d want to be held for a little while until she fell asleep again. He could do this.

“Hey,” he cooed as he gently lifted her into his arms and rocking her. “Hey, it’s okay. Da-” He hesitated, the word “daddy” caught in his throat, realizing he and Derek never discussed what their daughter would call each of them. “I’ve got you,” he said instead, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

He continued to murmur soothing nonsense in an attempt to calm her as he took her into the nursery. A quick diaper check and change later, he was settling into the glider with her, using the pillow to help hold her up. He removed her onesie and his shirt and used her blanket to cover her as she rested against his bare chest.

Relief settled over him when she immediately began to suck. He _could_ do this; he could handle a few hours while Derek was out. He _wasn’t_ a bad parent.

Then she pushed at his chest and let go to resume wailing once more and any relief he felt turned to stone in the pit of his stomach.

“Come one, Michaela,” he cooed, gently guiding her back toward his chest. She had seemed so hungry at first and couldn’t be full that quickly. All he had to do was calm her and she’d finish and then everything be okay again.

Just as he’d thought, she frantically latched on and sucked hungrily for a few seconds. Then she pulled away and began screaming again.

Spence caught his lower lip between his teeth in worry as he carefully shifted her up to his shoulder to rub and pat her back. She didn’t need to burp but she did calm a little. He kept at it until she was down to whimpering then carefully shifted her back against his chest to try to feed her again. As before, she latched and sucked for a few seconds then pulled away. She scrunched her nose and began to wail.

Spencer couldn’t stop the small whine of frustration at that as he carefully stood with her and redressed her and himself. Once he had her cradled in his arms once more, he began to pace with her, gently rocking and bouncing her.

“What’s wrong, Michaela?” he cooed though it came out more like a whine. She wouldn’t stop crying and he was out of ideas and Derek wasn’t back yet!

Of course, the baby didn’t answer him. She continued to wail, balling her fists up and scrunching her eyes. Her little feet kicked out and then she curled them up toward herself. She stopped crying long enough to hold her breath for a few seconds then continued to wail.

This odd behavior didn’t help Spencer at all. Normally, he could think things through and he’d find the solution. On cases, time was usually against them, making them all worry and causing stress but he always found the solution they needed. He could always focus. But not when it was his own daughter that was suffering. He found that his worry and inability to easily soothe her overwhelmed him.

What if she knew how bad a parent he was? What if she was _suffering_ some way he couldn’t fix because he couldn’t _think_ in order to help her?

He felt tears fill his eyes and a sob catch in his throat as he continued to pace with her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s upsetting you and I can’t fix it. Your grandmother will be back soon, okay? She’ll know and it’ll be all better.”

Except that feeling just made it all worse. Of course _Fran_ would know. Fran always knew what to do with the baby. Spencer didn’t know anything. Everything he knew about all sorts of useless subjects and nothing could help his own baby! If he were on a case, he’d easily figure this out but he wasn’t. He was at home with his screaming daughter and he didn’t know what to do!

Unable to figure out what to do and feeling restless and anxious just pacing in the nursery, Spencer moved through the house with her. As they moved from room to room, he rocked her and tried to soothe her with hushed nonsense but his voice seemed to do little for her. The longer she cried, the more anxious he became and after several circuits through the living room and kitchen, he felt tears fill his eyes and slip down his face.

“Please stop crying,” he whined, taking a deep breath that hitched a little bit. “I don’t know what you need and I’m sorry. Just please stop crying, Michaela.”

As he reentered the living room, he noticed the time on the clock. Michaela had been crying for almost two hours by now! And where were Derek and Fran?! He needed help! Clearly he wasn’t a good parent because his baby had been crying for _two hours_ and he couldn’t do anything about it!

Sniffling and whining in frustrated helplessness, Spencer frantically searched the room for his phone. He finally found it on the kitchen counter where he’d left it charging and quickly scrolled through his contacts. He’d promised Derek he’d call if he needed help and he hadn’t intended to fulfill that promise, wanting to prove that he _could_ take care of the baby himself. But as Michaela’s screaming continued and his breaths came out in sobs more often than not, he decided he needed help from _someone_.

Passing by Derek’s name for now, he scrolled down until he got to Hotch’s name. The team had returned from their last case the night before and were likely in the office now. He knew if he asked, Hotch would come help him. But the idea of taking his boss away from work for _him_ made him feel more like a burden. And what if Hotch judged him for not knowing how to help his own daughter?

_When Jack was a baby_ , he could hear Hotch hissing in his head, _he was always peaceful and we never had any trouble with him. You must be doing something wrong! You’re a terrible parent, Reid!_

He whimpered at the thought and quickly shoved his phone away. The tears slid down his cheeks and he let the sobs come.

“I’m so sorry, Michaela. I don’t know what you want and I’m _so sorry_ ,” he whimpered.

As he made his way back into the living room, sobbing and rocking Michaela in a desperate attempt to calm her, the front door pushed open. He immediately froze, turning a desperately hopeful gaze toward the door. Relief flooded him so quickly he almost felt dizzy when he saw his boyfriend entering the house. The older man immediately dropped the grocery bags he’d been carrying near the couch and moved to wrap his arms around his boyfriend and daughter. Fran was right behind him with her own bags, eyeing the crying pair with worry.

“Derek,” Spencer whimpered, feeling more tears slide down his cheeks. “Help… Please. She’s been crying for almost two and half hours and I already changed her and I tried feeding her but she wouldn’t eat and I don’t know what else to do!”

“Hey, hey, Spencer, calm down,” he soothed, brushing his thumb across one of Spencer’s to brush away tears that were immediately replaced with more. “We’ll figure this out. But she needs you to calm down, too, okay?”

Spencer nodded and sniffled, focusing on Derek’s strong, calming presence. “I-I know. Okay.” He sniffled again then took a deep breath, lifting a hand to wipe at his face. “What do we do? I don’t know what’s bothering her…”

“You said you changed her and you tried feeding her but she wouldn’t?” Derek clarified.

“Yes. She latched and would suck then pull away to continue crying,” he explained.

“Let me hold her,” Derek offered, gently taking their daughter from Spencer’s arms and rocking her. He noticed her curl her legs up and hold her breath, squinting, before resuming her wailing.

“She did that earlier, too,” Spencer pointed out when he saw her doing it. “I don’t know what it means.”

Fran, who had taken the groceries into the kitchen while she let the two figure things out for themselves, paused to watch as Michaela curled up again. She had an idea of what could be bothering the baby and was slightly surprised that Spencer hadn’t figured it out. But before she could offer her suggestion, her son beat her to it.

“I think her stomach may be upset,” Derek said, watching her kick her feet out only to curl them back up again. And then he realized he knew exactly what to do. The tummy that was hurting may be smaller, but he realized he knew how to soothe it. He gently pressed his fingers into his daughter’s lower abdomen and began rubbing in circles, applying gentle pressure.

Spencer’s eyes widened as he watched his daughter calming down, her wailing turning into hitching, unsure sobs, caught between wanting to continue crying and relief. As Derek continued to rub, her legs slowly uncurled and her fists loosened.

“She’ll be okay,” Spencer breathed in relief. He still felt like an inadequate parent because he’d let her suffer for three hours but at least she was okay again.

“Spencer,” Derek said softly. “Why don’t you go lie down? You’re probably stressed after spending three hours with a screaming baby. I’ve got her for a while,” he assured.

Spencer hesitated, feeling like he didn’t deserve that because he hadn’t _helped_ anything. Derek had done it all. But he realized how exhausted he felt and he could feel the beginnings of a headache forming.

Rubbing at his temples, he nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He offered Derek a small smile then made his way to their room.

Once he was cocooned under their blankets in the darkened room, he felt tears sliding down his cheeks. He’d let his baby girl suffer for three hours because he couldn’t do anything about it. Then Derek had waltzed in and fixed it. Derek was a better parent than he was, clearly. Spencer didn’t deserve to be a parent. If he’d just been more careful, he wouldn’t have gotten pregnant to begin with.

And that thought sent more tears spilling down his face as his heart throbbed because what kind of parent thought like that?! His daughter meant everything to him and he’d _never_ want harm to come to her. The idea that he’d think things would be simpler if she’d never been born scared him more than any of the other abnormal thoughts he’d been having.

Spencer curled up tighter and shoved his face into his pillow as he sobbed harder, terrified of what was happening to him and positive that he couldn’t tell _anyone_ about the thoughts in his head.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days?! Woohoo! I actually had half of Ch8 written shortly after posting Ch7 last night. Kinda makes up for the long wait after posting Ch6. And this one is slightly longer than usual, too! Actually, I think it's slightly longer than Ch7 was!
> 
> After posting Ch7 here and on FF.net, I got a few comments/reviews where y'all are like "Yep, Spence has PPD. Poor him." and such. I found it hilarious that y'all could recognize the signs in him. If I had found a similar fic before doing my research on PPD and PPA, I wouldn't have known.
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter!

* * *

A few hours later, Derek left Michaela with Fran to go check on Spencer. He’d let the younger man sleep for a couple hours, knowing he’d needed it. But he also knew Spencer needed to eat and his mama had just finished making dinner for them. And he wanted to talk to Spencer alone for a minute. Because what he’d come home to had worried him and he was afraid that Spencer losing his composure so severely was the culmination of everything Spencer had been through the last few weeks. He’d waited to see if Spencer would be okay on his own but, clearly, that wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t want Spencer to suffer in silence and, much as Spencer might not like it, they needed to find help.

“Spencer,” he called as he settled beside his sleeping boyfriend. He reached out and ran his hands through Spencer’s hair. “Time to wake up, pretty boy.”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered open but they didn’t meet Derek’s. Instead, he stared ahead though he seemed to be looking through everything, not really focusing.

“Hey, Mama made dinner,” he said, moving his hand to run down Spencer’s arm before gently clasping his hand around Spencer’s; Spencer didn’t move to grasp his in return. “Spencer?”

“M’not hungry,” Spencer mumbled, tugging his hand away and burrowing deeper into the blankets. “Lemme go back to sleep.”

“Come on, pretty boy, you need to eat something. And Michaela will need to be fed soon now that she’s feeling better,” Derek reasoned, placing his hand on Spencer’s shoulder atop the blanket instead.

“Give her a bottle.”

Okay, that was definitely not what Derek was expecting. Now that he’d gotten used to the pumping and was making enough to have enough extra bottles in addition to whatever Michaela ate during the day, Spencer had seemed to settle into his role as Michaela’s primary food source. He always made a fuss about the “proper” way he liked doing it – with Michaela’s skin to his and covered with her blanket. Suddenly he wanted no part in that?

“Spencer,” Derek said cautiously, wriggling down to lie beside his boyfriend though Spencer’s eyes remained closed and he didn’t move any closer. “What’s bother you, pretty boy?” he asked softly, draping his arm over Spencer though the smaller man still didn’t move closer. “You’ve been so at ease with feeding her now that you’re producing enough milk. Why do you not want to feed her all of a sudden?”

Spencer opened his eyes to glare at Derek and for a second, the older man was afraid he’d get a repeat of the other day when Spencer had snapped at him despite his anger having mellowed out recently.

“Because,” Spencer snapped then sighed as the anger fled and he just seemed… _defeated_. “It’s my fault her stomach hurt and then it was my fault she suffered for three hours.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Spencer,” Derek said, brushing his fingertips across Spencer’s cheek. Still no reaction.

“Yes it is! The only thing she eats is my milk. She hasn’t had a problem before so it’s something I did. Until I know what it is to stop doing it, I shouldn’t feed her again.” With a sigh, Spencer wriggled further into the blankets.

“Okay, there are a few flaws in that plan, pretty boy,” Derek said not unkindly. “First, all we _have_ is bottles of _your_ milk. Second, it might not have been your milk that did it in the first place. I did a little research while you were sleeping in case that happened again and you know what I found?” Spencer remained silent but he continued anyway. “Babies have immature digestive systems. It’s not unusual for their food to move too quickly and not break down fully. It might not have been _what_ she ate but how fast her body processed it.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed in thought and he slowly pushed the blanket down a bit so he wasn’t so hunched up in it, blinking at Derek. “How did I not know this? I know _everything_.”

Derek chuckled. “Have you even had a _reason_ to look up facts on babies?”

“No,” Spencer sheepishly admitted after a pause.

“See? And we didn’t have the chance to learn beforehand like most parents. I’m sure if you knew before her birth that you were going to be a parent, you’d have read anything you could get your hands on and you’d be a pro,” Derek said, tone warm and soothing. “And you know what?” When Spencer hesitantly met his eyes, Derek smiled affectionately and tentatively tugged him closer, pleased when he didn’t resist. “I think you’re doing just fine despite not knowing much yet.”

Instead of being happy and believing him (and, really, Derek should have known not to expect such an easy, movie worthy wrap up), Spencer huffed though he didn’t pull away. “No, I’m not,” he said. “Derek, I let her cry for _three hours_ because I didn’t know what to do! I’m afraid of being alone with her but I told you to go because I wanted to show you and myself I could be a good parent but I _can’t_!”

“Why are you afraid of being alone with her?” Derek asked, genuinely concerned. Spencer didn’t even see any mocking in his tone like he was afraid he’d get if he ever admitted his fears.

“Because,” he sighed. “I haven’t been since she was born. At the hospital, I had Melanie. When we got home, I had you and then your mother got here. I haven’t been alone with her – just she and I – since she was born. I thought I could handle it because we’d been doing okay with her with your mom here and I thought I’d know what to do but I… She started crying and I couldn’t…” He took a shuddering breath and rubbed at his eyes.

Deciding that, for now, trying to convince Spencer he was doing a good job was only going to upset him until he wanted to believe he was doing okay, Derek changed the subject. “Spencer,” he said cautiously. “I want to talk to you about something but I want you to know I don’t think any less of you for this and I only say this out of concern.”

Confusion flashed across Spencer’s face but he nodded, albeit hesitantly.

“I think this isn’t just the usual postpartum stuff,” he said, watching Spencer’s eyes shift away as his boyfriend began to block him out and he hurried to continue. “If it was, you would be feeling better than you are by now. I think maybe… maybe this could be-”

“Don’t say it,” Spencer whispered. “Please. I can’t be depressed. I already have to worry about inheriting my mother’s schizophrenia. The idea of having _any_ mental illness-”

“But it’s not an illness,” Derek hurried to counter. “Postpartum depression won’t last forever. You’ll get help and even though it might take time, you’ll be yourself again. Don’t try to tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

Spencer bit his lip and turned his face into his pillow with a sigh. After a slight hesitation, he nodded. “I did,” he mumbled.

This was it. He could tell Derek _everything_ right now. Derek loved him and cared about him. He wouldn’t think less of Spencer if he knew what he’d been thinking, right? And Derek was already sure something was wrong with him; that’s why he was suggesting they get help. So what harm could it do if Derek knew a little bit more.

“I wished she wasn’t born,” he mumbled, unable to meet Derek’s eyes.

“What?” There was no shock in that single word like Spencer had been anticipating. Instead, he heard genuine confusion.

“I wished she hadn’t been born,” he said, pulling his face from his pillow though he still couldn’t look at Derek. “Earlier. She’d been crying so long and I couldn’t help and then you came in and just fixed it so easily and I felt like I didn’t deserve to be a parent. Or that Michaela deserves someone better than me. I might have thought it would be easier if she hadn’t been born. It was only for a second and then I felt awful about it. What kind of parent doesn’t want their child, Derek?”

“Oh, pretty boy, come here.” Derek gently tugged Spencer fully into his arms, securing them firmly around the smaller man. “I know you love her. I know if you knew what was hurting her, you’d have fixed it in a second. Just because something gets rough and you think you’re an awful parent does _not_ mean that your baby didn’t deserve to be born to you. And it doesn’t make you a horribly person for thinking it. You were stressed and tired and I’m sure worried as hell for her, right?”

Spencer nodded against his chest. “She wouldn’t stop screaming and I didn’t know what to do… I just wanted to make it better. I love her so much.”

“I know. Don’t feel bad for thinking what you thought. I still think it’s just depression and if you ask for help and it turns out you really do have it, they can help you feel better. I’m sure those thoughts will go away,” Derek assured, giving him an affectionate squeeze.

Spencer sighed and nodded. “That makes sense. As much as I hate to admit that I might be sick in some way, I can’t keep going on this way. I’m afraid of being alone with my own baby and the other thoughts I sometimes have scare me…”

“Do you want to talk about any of it?” Derek asked quietly, afraid that Spencer would shut him out again. If he’d only been communicating with Derek more (and Derek could have pressed him sooner; would have, too, if he’d known it was this bad), maybe he wouldn’t have gotten so depressed.

Spencer was silent for a moment and Derek almost thought he wouldn’t share but then he finally began speaking in an almost a whisper, everything spilling out with no hope to stop it.

“Even if I know you and Fran are just in the other room, when you leave me alone with her, I get scared that she’ll stop breathing and that you’ll think it was my fault and hate me. I get so scared I can feel myself trembling and then I worry that I’ll drop her and she’ll get hurt. I’m terrified of letting Clooney anywhere near her even though he’s never once shown aggression toward her and we agreed to let him get to know her. I can’t be in the kitchen with her when you cook because the _knives_ frighten me!” he growls, frustrated at his own irrational fears. “I get so anxious and feel I have to check on her every second she’s away from me. When I do, I have to make sure I can hear her breathing and see her chest moving. Sometimes I have to touch her to feel it! Or my own heart races and my brain cycles through everything that could kill her in her sleep and then I have to check her blanket is far from her face and- and-” He cut himself off, panting and gripping Derek’s t-shirt in shaking fists. “I _know_ something is wrong, Derek. I know it…”

“Sounds like anxiety in addition to depression,” Derek murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into Spencer’s back. “I’m glad you finally shared with me, Spencer. I know we’ll get through whatever this is, okay? I know this scares you but you know what? Before all of this got to you, you were a natural with her. I remember the day she was born when I brought your things to her that evening. She started crying while Garcia was holding her and you were right there to take her and figure it out. You were calm and collected and… Hell, you were Super Mom!”

Instead of reacting to the part about knowing what to do right away, Derek was mildly surprised when Spencer snorted and asked “Super Mom? I’m not a female, Derek.”

“No, but you know what I mean,” Derek said, laughing.

“That reminds me,” Spencer said thoughtfully. “When she first started crying earlier, I was trying to shush her and let her know I was there to help. I started to say daddy then realized we never discussed what she will eventually call us. We should be using those terms in reference to ourselves and each other when speaking to her.”

Derek shrugged the best he could lying down with Spencer in his arms. “What do you want her to call you? I’m totally okay with female pronouns if you want,” he added with a smirk.

Spencer hummed thoughtfully. “Technically I _did_ give birth to her. And it’s not uncommon for some male carriers to use feminine pronouns though it’s still widely criticized especially with women who feel male carriers are taking something from them.”

“Don’t think about what others will think,” Derek said. “I will gladly call you my baby’s _mother_ if you want and I don’t care what people think of us doing so. But if you want to stick with male terms, we should figure out who’s going to be daddy and what the other should be.”

“No matter which I choose, _you_ will be daddy,” Spencer said. And he realized that, even though he had almost called himself daddy earlier, that term just felt more right on Derek than on himself.

“Okay,” Derek said with a smile. “What do you want to be called then? Mommy? Papa?”

Silent for a moment, Spencer shrugged. “Technically, I _am_ her mother,” he said as if that explained his decision.

Laughing, Derek shook his head in amusement. He was almost certain he knew what Spencer was choosing but he still needed the other man to _say_ it. “So… Are you gonna be Mommy then?”

Unable to help the smile at Derek’s laugh (because Derek smiling _always_ made him smile), Spencer nodded. “Yeah. It doesn’t weird me out to use female pronouns in relation to myself being the one that gave birth to Michaela.”

“Good.” Derek kissed his forehead then gently pulled away. “Come on then. Let’s go eat and you can feed Michaela. Tomorrow, we can go see your doctor and help you with the postpartum stuff, okay?”

Spencer nodded and eagerly followed his boyfriend out of the bed, feeling a lot more like himself now that he’d shared how he felt with Derek. He _could_ do this. Derek had been right. In the hospital that first day, he’d been able to do it and it had felt _right_ and he wanted _that_ part of himself back. He knew it’d take a bit of time but they _would_ get there.

~oOoOo~

The next morning, Spencer called his doctor, relieved to find that he had time in the afternoon to see Spencer. They explained to Fran what they thought was happening with Spencer and where they were going that afternoon. She’d expressed sorrow she hadn’t been able to tell so she could help but they assured her there hadn’t been anything they could have done to help Spencer. He needed medical help with this even though talking to Derek about it all the night before did make him feel better. So Fran readily agreed to look after Michaela for the afternoon while they went to see Spencer’s doctor.

“Do you want me to come with you or wait outside?” Derek asked as he pulled into the parking lot of the clinic Spencer’s doctor worked from.

“He’s going to ask me questions about the things you already know and then he’ll want to take blood to test for other illnesses that could be affecting my moods. It will take a bit of time and likely be boring in the beginning. While they wait for the blood, I’ll be coming out with you anyway. Then we can go in together when he’s ready to discuss what I can do,” Spencer explained as they exited the car.

Derek immediately slipped one of Spencer’s hands into his as they walked, giving it a reassuring squeeze that made the younger man smile back at him. “What you can do? Isn’t it obvious? He’ll give you something to take to make you feel better, right?”

“Most likely, yes, but there’s more to it than that,” Spencer said, slipping into the building when Derek held the door for him then lowering his voice when in the quiet atmosphere of the waiting room.

Derek nodded, though he was a bit confused, and wrapped his arm around Spencer’s waist as they stepped up to the reception desk.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the twenty-something young woman with dark hair pulled into a ponytail greeted. Derek was slightly surprised to find her tone wasn’t forced. She _genuinely_ seemed happy. “What can I do for you?”

“I have an appointment with Dr. Jones,” Spencer said.

The receptionist – Derek noticed the small placard on the counter said “Megan” - began typing at her computer. “Name?”

“Spencer Reid.”

More typing. Then Megan grinned. “Ah, yes, here it is. I think he’s still with someone. If you want to have a seat, we’ll get you when he’s ready.”

They both nodded and Spencer led them to an empty corner, settling in one chair while Derek took the other. He immediately began fiddling with the hems of his sweater.

“Hey,” Derek said softly, gently grasping Spencer’s hands. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Spencer whispered. “But…” He sighed and sat straighter, dropping his hands into his lap. “I know the few options I’ll have. He’ll either want to give me something and I’ll have to stop feeding Michaela, he’ll want me on something and I’ll be able to continue feeding Michaela but with the chance of the drugs getting to her through my milk, or I can not take anything at all and continue feeding her. I don’t want to stop feeding her but I know I can’t go on this way without help. But the thought of hurting her if I continue to feed her while taking whatever medication he wants me on scares me.”

Derek frowned thoughtfully, staring down at his own hands for a moment before looking back up at Spencer. “That last one really isn’t a choice, is it? I mean, if we thought you would be okay without help, we wouldn’t be here.”

Spencer nodded. “True. That leaves either not feeding her myself or taking the risks and feeding her while on medication.”

“Can you do that?” Derek asked. “Feed her while taking medicines, I mean.”

Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on the specific medication and the dosage he wants me on. Some might not leave enough traces in my milk to affect her. If they do, any side effects she’ll feel should be mild.”

“What about not feeding her so you can take the medicines he wants? Would you be okay with that?” Derek asked.

This time, Spencer was quiet for a few seconds longer as he thought about it. Then he shook his head, meeting Derek’s eyes with a hopeless expression that made the older man want to pull him into an embrace.

“No,” Spencer admitted on a whisper. “She’s still so young and so little for her age, likely because she’d been born small. She needs my milk to gain the weight she should and it contains antibodies and white blood cells and other nutrients for her immune system, nutrients for her brain, eye, and immune system development… And… I like the closeness with her. I won’t be able to do this forever and if I have to stop early because there’s something wrong with me-”

“Hey, there isn’t anything _wrong_ with you, pretty boy,” Derek said, reaching over to grasp one of Spencer’s hands. Spencer grasped his hand tightly in return.

He took a deep breath and nodded. “My doctor will go over all of this with me,” he said. “He’ll know what we can do.”

“Spencer Reid?” a nurse called.

They both looked up to see a different young woman standing near the reception desk. When they stood, she smiled over at them.

“The doctor is ready to see you. He’s waiting for you in his office,” she said, gesturing for Spencer to follow her.

“Good luck, pretty boy,” Derek murmured, kissing Spencer’s cheek before letting the younger man go.

When his boyfriend was out of sight, he settled back into his seat and pulled out his phone, intending to text his mother to update her and to see how their daughter was doing. He’d just set his phone aside and was leafing through a Homes & Gardens magazine (for the house styles for his renovating, he told himself) when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Surprised his mother had responded so quickly, he pulled it out.

Instead of his mother, he saw he had a text from Garcia.

[Text message received from Penelope Garcia at 2:20pm] _Hey, I was just wondering if you and Reid were up for dinner tonight? Unless the team has to leave on a case before tonight._

Dinner with their BAU family did sound like a good idea. They hadn’t seen the rest of their team much since Michaela’s birth. And it might actually do Spencer some good to get away from the baby for a night and be himself for a few hours.

[Text message sent to Penelope Garcia at 2:22pm] _That sounds like a good idea. I’ll ask Spencer if he feels up for it though. Let you know later._

He returned to his his magazine for several minutes before he felt his phone vibrating again. Garcia asked how Spencer was doing. After a moment’s hesitation, he explained where they were and why. It felt a little wrong to be sharing something so big about Spencer without his boyfriend’s consent but he’d take any anger the younger man felt toward him if it meant Spencer would get their team’s support through this.

As expected, Garcia’s reaction had been sadness that Spencer was suffering in any way and she asked if there was anything they could do for him. Derek explained that no, there wasn’t, but if Spencer was up to it, that dinner with their team away from the baby might do him some good. Garcia promised to do her best to keep the team home for the night but she made no promises. Derek understood, of course. Their job was very unpredictable.

Fifteen minutes after he’d disappeared, Spencer was returning to sit beside him. He offered Derek a small smile then he chuckled when he saw the magazine Derek had just tossed aside.

“Homes & Gardens?” he asked.

“For my remodeling,” Derek defended, puffing his chest though he couldn’t keep from grinning. Spencer’s smile always did that to him.

“Mhm, if you say so,” Spencer teased, lips still curled up into a small smile when he settled back into his seat.

“I say so,” Derek huffed, still smiling as well. “So how did it go?”

Spencer shrugged. “I told you. We just talked about everything I already shared with you. He took a little blood and now we wait.”

Derek nodded and idly looked around the waiting room as if that would make the doctor appear sooner. “Oh!” he said, pulling out his phone to look at the conversation with Garcia. “Garcia asked if we wanted to have dinner with the team tonight. You know, unless they get called away. You feeling up for it? It’s just a couple hours and it might do you good to be away from Michaela for a little bit.”

Spencer’s eyes went from Derek’s to Derek’s phone then his own lap as he sucked his lower lip between his teeth. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “The thought of being away from Michaela makes me feel guilty. I know you mother can take care of her, but… I haven’t been away from her since she was born. She’s only a little over two weeks old. I feel like I shouldn’t be away from her yet.”

“It’s only a couple hours,” Derek repeated. “Two tops. We haven’t seen them much since Michaela was born.”

“Do _you_ want to go?” Spencer asked.

“I do. But I won’t force you and I’ll do what you feel comfortable with,” Derek assured.

His answer made Spencer glare down at his lap. “So if we don’t go, _I’m_ the bad guy.”

“Spencer,” Derek admonished. “They’ll understand. You know they will.”

Spencer sighed and remained silent for several minutes. Derek had thought he was done with that topic and had pulled out his phone to play a game while they waited when Spencer finally spoke.

“Okay.”

“What?” he asked, blinking at his boyfriend.

“Okay,” Spencer repeated. “We can go. I do agree that it might be nice to be _me_ without the baby for a little while. And I can always text your mother to check on her if I need to reassure myself she’s okay without me. But if I say we need to go because I need to be with her, we go, okay?”

Derek immediately nodded. “Of course. I understand.”

Spencer smiled softly and nodded. “Okay. Then we’re going.”

“Awesome!” Derek quickly typed a message to Garcia to let her know Spencer was on board with it.

“Derek,” Spencer said quietly when he’d slipped his phone back into his pocket. The quiet, slightly fearful tone of his voice immediately had the older profiler on edge.

“Spencer? Something wrong?” he asked, reaching over to slip his arm around Spencer’s shoulders as best as he could with the chairs’ arms between them.

“I’ve been thinking,” Spencer said slowly as if choosing his phrasing carefully. Knowing Spencer, he probably was. “There’s something that worries me – and not because of any illness I may or may not have,” he quickly added. “I’ve been worried about this for a long time and now that Michaela’s here, it scares me even more.”

“Okay,” Derek said slowly, not fully understanding what Spencer was trying to say.

Spencer took a deep breath, reaching up to grasp the hand on his shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze to reassure himself Derek was there and loved him and he could tell the older man anything safely.

“What if,” he said slowly then shook his head. He didn’t like the way that phrasing reminded him of the frightening thoughts he’d been having. “I’m still young enough to develop schizophrenia,” he said instead. “Like my mother. And if I do… I don’t want Michaela to have to be like me, to have to grow up quickly because I can’t…” He took a deep, shuddering breath and squeezed Derek’s hand harder.

“Hey, hey, Spencer, look at me,” Derek said softly, waiting patiently for the other man to meet his eyes. When he did, he continued in a calm tone. “If you do become like your mother, Michaela won’t have to grow up like you did. You had to because your dad wasn’t around and your mom needed help. The difference between you and your mom is that _I’m_ not going anywhere. Okay? If that _does_ happen to you – and I don’t think it will – she will still have me to help you. That won’t become her problem to take care of.”

“What if it skips me and she gets it?” Spencer whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Derek, I can’t watch two people I love lose themselves like that. She’s my daughter and I will always love her but I can’t… can’t watch her...”

“Spencer, listen to me,” Derek said, a bit more harshly than he meant to but it had the desired effect of getting his boyfriend’s attention. “I don’t know how schizophrenia and genetics works but I feel like, if you don’t get it, she won’t. Besides, she’s less than a month old. Don’t worry yourself over things that won’t happen for twenty years – _if_ it’ll happen at all.”

Spencer sniffled then took a deep, shuddering breath, and nodded. “You’re right. If it happens, it won’t happen until she’s a young adult. It will always scare me until she passes that window without a break but… But you’re right.” He sighed deeply as if letting go of his emotions, then leaned toward Derek around the arms of the chairs.

They sat in silence for a little while until a nurse called for Spencer again. This time, they both stood to follow her. They took an elevator to the upper floor of the clinic where the offices were and she led them to one with a placard on the door that said Dr. Nathan Jones **.**

The door was open and as they stepped into view, the man behind the desk stood to greet them. He was slightly overweight and wore a white lab coat over an expensive looking suit. Wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose above a gray beard though his head was bald.

“Spencer,” he greeted, rounding the desk toward them. Derek was slightly surprised he didn’t try to shake Spencer’s hand though it pleased him, knowing Spencer didn’t like touching some people. “And Mr. Morgan,” he added, offering his hand to Derek.

“Derek,” he said, shaking the older man’s hand.

“Please, have a seat and we’ll discuss what we can do for Spencer,” the doctor directed, gently shutting the door to keep their conversation private before returning to sit across his desk from them. “So, Spencer,” he said, leaning forward and clasping his hands. “Your blood work is clean. There is no sign of any other illnesses that could be affecting your moods in such a way. Based on this and our conversation from earlier, I think it’s safe to say you’re suffering from postpartum depression combined with postpartum anxiety.”

Derek reached over and gently took one of Spencer’s hands, giving it a slight squeeze in a silent offer of support. Spencer squeezed back and turned his attention to his boyfriend with a small smile before looking back at his doctor.

“What do you want to do about it?” he asked.

“Well, I feel you’re not a danger to your daughter if left untreated. But I also feel not treating it is not an option for you. Especially when we add on the anxiety this is causing for you. So,” he continued, leaning back in his chair and pulling over a prescription pad though he doesn’t write anything yet. “I want to put you on a lighter than standard dose of an antidepressant.”

“Will that affect his ability to continue feeding Michaela?” Derek asked, knowing continuing to breastfeed their daughter was important to Spencer.

“The drug I want to put him on has been proven to cause mild side effects to an infant through their carrier’s milk. And, as I said, Spencer will benefit from even a more mild dose. The chances of it reaching your daughter is very slim,” the doctor explained. “Keep an eye out for diarrhea and vomiting from your daughter. They’ll likely be mild but if it becomes a problem, stop feeding her and come see me,” he said, directing the last statement toward Spencer. “We’ll adjust your medication and dose.”

“So I don’t have to stop breastfeeding?” Spencer asked, his tone and the small smile curling his lips hopeful.

“I don’t see any reason that you should have to yet,” Dr. Jones confirmed. Then he scribbled onto the pad, tore the top sheet off, and held it out to Spencer then folded his hands on the desk when his patient had taken it. “I’m giving you a prescription for a month. PPD generally clears up by the third month after giving birth. I’ll want to see you again before this prescription runs out and we’ll see if you need to continue.”

Spencer nodded as he slipped the small paper into a pocket in his messenger bag while Dr. Jones turned his attention to Derek.

“Spencer explained to me that your mother is here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “She’s staying with us for a little while. Having Michaela was a big surprise and we weren’t prepared. We needed her help.”

Dr. Jones nodded, small smile curling his lips and forming crinkles in the corners of his eyes. “Good. It’s good you’re seeking help where you need it. Spencer told me he admitted to you last night what he’d been feeling. That’s good that you’re communicating. It will help Spencer through this. Spencer,” he said, directing his attention back toward his patient. “You don’t have to do everything, alright? Give yourself time away from the baby. It does not make you a bad parent. Let others take care of her and take care of you. And keep _talking_. Tell Derek when you can’t handle things or are scared. You don’t have to battle this on your own.”

Spencer nodded again, small smile in place. “Thank you.”

Dr. Jones stood and moved around his desk to open the door for them. “I’ll see you again in a few weeks,” he said, shaking Derek’s hand once more and waving goodbye to Spencer who waved in return.

“How you feeling, pretty boy?” Derek asked, slinging his arm around Spencer’s shoulders as they made their way to the elevator.

“Relieved,” Spencer admitted with a small smile. “It makes me feel a little better knowing _why_ I feel how I feel and how we can help. And it’s not forever.”

“Nah,” Derek agreed, pressing the button to call the elevator car. “You’ll be Super Mom again in no time!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized as I was writing this that I mixed up my own terminology for what, exactly, Reid is in relation to having babies. It’s not a big deal, just the way I choose to phrase it. So, in the last chapter when Reid and Morgan are discussing what Michaela will call them, Red said “It’s not uncommon for male carriers to use female pronouns.” In my universe here, a “carrier” refers to any male with the ability to have children. Women who can are just regular women. So there’s no need to say “male carrier” because all carriers are male and a woman would not be referred to as one. Doesn’t make the story any different to read. Just thought I’d explain my terms here.

* * *

After their meeting with Dr. Jones, they’d stopped at a pharmacy to fill it before heading home. Spencer had deposited the little white bag on the island counter and hadn’t so much as _looked_ at it in several hours. He knew he had to take it but he convinced himself waiting until that night or even the next day would be okay.

Then he and Derek had needed to get ready for their dinner with the team. Spencer was ready, wearing a pair of khakis and a blue button down under a black sweater vest. He’d even added a tie tucked underneath the vest just to feel more like his old self. Derek was still in their bedroom and Fran had disappeared with Michaela into the nursery.

Which left Spencer alone with nothing to do but wait. He’d found himself wandering into the kitchen and had spotted the forgotten bag. Nervously, he’d pulled the bottle out, setting it in the center of the counter and stared at it.

He felt like the little pills inside were mocking him.

A mixture of fear, resolve, and hope whirled in his mind, making the indecision nag at him even more so. Taking them would mean admitting he was sick. Yes, he’d told Derek everything he was feeling and they’d spoken to his doctor but somehow, actually _taking_ the medication seemed like the nail in the coffin. And he was afraid that they wouldn’t work. Or, even at a lighter dose, they’d affect Michaela somehow.

But he knew he _had_ to take them. He couldn’t go on the way he was. Everything made him scared or anxious and he couldn’t _enjoy_ having a newborn like a normal parent should because he was always worried something was going to happen to her. Some of that worry came from the vast amounts of knowledge in his brain and the job he and Derek had, Spencer knew. But it shouldn’t affect him to this extent. He _was_ sick in a way and he _did_ need to take them.

With determined movements, he snatched the bottle, removed the cap, and tipped a pill into his palm. The texture of it against his skin felt like fire, a reminder that he was sick and now relied on pills to get better. He ignored those thoughts and crossed to a cabinet and pulled down a glass, filled it with water, and quickly swallowed the pill.

Trembling slightly, he put the cap back on the bottle and tucked into the drawer they reserved for random odds and ends like batteries and tape where he wouldn’t see it until he needed to take the next dose.

“Spencer?”

Jerking his head up, Spencer forced a small smile when he saw Fran standing in the doorway, brows pinched in concern.

“Where’s Michaela?” he asked, hoping to divert her attention from whatever it was she was going to say because he knew she’d ask about how he was feeling and he didn’t want to examine his feelings any closer than necessary for the foreseeable future.

“She’s asleep in your bedroom,” Fran assured, stepping closer to the island. “Are you feeling okay, honey?”

Spencer nodded sharply and unconsciously took a step away from her, back toward the doorway. “I should go see if Derek is ready. We don’t want to be late.”

“Wait a minute,” Fran said hurriedly, raising a hand to stop him from moving away any further. “I wanted to give you something.”

 _No! No more gifts or tips or tricks or suggestions!_ Guilt made nausea roll in Spencer’s stomach and he pulled in a deep breath through his nose. Fran had been here two weeks and had been cooking for them and helping keep the house clean and caring for Michaela because _Spencer was sick!_ He couldn’t handle everything he should and it was Fran that was doing it all and he couldn’t take anything else from her!

“Spencer!”

Spencer twitched at the sharp call of his name and blinked a few times, realizing he’d zoned out. Fran’s head was titled as she studied him and he felt more guilt for worrying her.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I was just thinking. A-About what it could be,” he quickly lied though he wasn’t sure she believed him. Probably not. “You don’t have to keep giving me things. Or doing so much to help. I-I mean I appreciate it, but-”

“Spencer, honey, I really don’t mind,” she said softly, hesitantly reaching out to place a calming hand to his shoulder and rubbing back and forth. “Anything I can do to make things easier for you two until you feel comfortable, I will. I love being able to help my boys.”

Spencer felt his face flush and he ducked his head, letting his hair fall forward. Shortly after Derek and Spencer had revealed to her that they were dating, Fran had taken to calling Spencer one of “her boys.” It made him feel like he’d found another place he belonged like he belonged as part of the BAU team and like he belonged with Derek.

He nodded and gave her a small, apologetic smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” she said, gently patting his cheek before offering him the gift bag she’d been holding. “Now, this is for you.”

He took the bag and set it on the island then reached inside. His fingers brushed against something cloth and then against something packaged in a baggy plastic like diapers. But Fran wouldn’t give him diapers for Michaela as a _present._ Curiously, he pulled out the cloth item first.

What he pulled out was a gray band of cotton cloth similar to a chest binder a woman might wear to suppress her breasts to appear more flat chested. Except this material wasn’t as tight and the ends clasped together similar to a bra. It was snug enough that he knew it would fit without falling but wouldn’t constrict him in any uncomfortable way. On the inside of the band were two round pads with a diameter as wide as the cotton and a few inches apart. They were made from an absorbent material similar to sanitary pads and had adhesive backs so they could be peeled off and replaced.

Spencer didn’t see any tags labeling the item or its size or price – which made sense because the pads had to be bought separately and attached which Fran had obviously done – but he knew what this was.

A carrier wrap.

Since carriers didn’t have actual full _breasts_ like women and, therefore, didn’t wear bras, they didn’t have anywhere to tuck tissues or anything to absorb leaks when they first began breastfeeding. It was why Spencer had just been wearing shirts that were easily changed and had chosen a few layers tonight in case he leaked during dinner. But there _were_ undergarments like this one designed for carriers. The absorbent pads fit over the nipples to absorb leaking milk.

“I bought that the last time I went for groceries,” Fran explained. “I thought you might want it tonight so you wouldn’t have to worry about if you leak during dinner.”

Spencer ran his fingers across the soft cotton then lightly against one of the nipple pads. The idea of wearing it felt both oddly calming and embarrassing. He knew it would keep any leaks from soaking through his layers but he also felt like everyone would know he was wearing it. What if he moved differently with the cloth band around his chest? What if the nipple pads crinkled when he moved?

He peered into the box just to check that the package at the bottom was what he thought. A bright purple plastic package sat at the bottom, the male on the package – presumably a carrier given the product – grinning back up at him, wearing a wrap similar to the one Spencer held except in white. Probably to show how dark leak spots wouldn’t show on the material through the nipple pads but Spencer highly doubted the model was even truly lactating.

“What do you think?” Fran asked quietly.

Spencer set the wrap down with a shrug. “I never thought about buying one,” he admitted. “I just assumed I would have to keep changing my tops.”

“Why don’t you go try it on and see how it feels? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to keep it and you won’t hurt my feelings,” Fran assured with an encouraging smile.

After a moment’s thought, Spencer nodded, picked up the carrier wrap, and disappeared into the bathroom. He gently laid the wrap on the counter then removed his vest, tie, and button down. His button down didn’t have a single drop of milk on it which mildly surprised him. Taking a breath to steady himself, he picked up the carrier wrap and unclasped it then pulled it across his chest, attempting to clasp it from behind. Unable to do it blind, he let it drop out of one hand with a frustrated groan then changed his hold so the wrap was behind him and the clasps in front. He managed them more easily with them in front then shifted it around so they were behind him and gave it a few tugs on top and underneath until the nipple pads were in place.

With a huff, he examined his reflection now that the wrap was on. He swallowed down the nervous flutters the strange sight in the mirror caused. It felt like he was looking at the reflection of a stranger. The wrap _looked_ like it fit him nicely. And, actually, it _did_ fit well. It wasn’t too tight but it also didn’t feel like it would slip down at any given moment. The nipple pads were soft against his nipples and didn’t irritate them when he twisted his torso to either side.

Experimentally, he pulled his button down back on and buttoned it. A thorough perusal of his reflection didn’t reveal any shadows or abnormal body shapes that would give the wrap underneath away. Still unsure but feeling slightly more confident, Spencer retied his tie then pulled on his sweater vest again. With all his layers, the wrap was virtually undetectable in his reflection. And all those layers didn’t feel oppressive either. He felt a comfortable pressure surrounding him with the wrap and his shirt and vest, like being hugged.

Smiling nervously, he returned to the kitchen, seeing Derek had joined Fran. He smoothed his palms down his sweater then tugged nervously at the hem.

“Well? What do you think?” Fran asked, coming around to stand beside Spencer. “How does it feel?”

“How does what feel?” Derek asked, eyeing his boyfriend for anything different.

“You mean you can’t tell?” Spencer asked, tone hopeful.

“No?” Derek said but it came out more like a question through his confusion.

“I bought Spencer a carrier wrap,” Fran explained. “I thought he might like the extra protection from leaks so he didn’t have to worry during dinner.”

“Yeah? I couldn’t tell,” Derek admitted, moving to stand in front of Spencer and trailing his hands down Spencer’s sides to rest on his hips. “Nope, can’t tell,” he murmured.

At Derek’s touch, Spencer shivered and lifted his hands to rest on Derek’s chest. The feeling of Derek’s firm pectorals under his fingers sent another shiver through him and he suddenly wanted to press as close to his boyfriend as he could, to feel the firm planes of his boyfriend pressed against his own body from chest to toes. He hadn’t thought about sex since Michaela was born, nowhere near in the mood for it with everything that had happened since that morning in the bathtub. But in that moment, he felt more like himself than he had in the last two weeks and he _wanted_ Derek.

Derek chuckled and planted a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, dropping one hand from Spencer’s hips and slipping the other around to rest on his back. “We should get going, pretty boy,” he said, grinning.

Spencer cleared his throat and nodded though leaving the house was the _last_ thing he wanted to do. And not because he’d been so turned on by his boyfriend a second ago. Derek reminding him they had to leave reminded him that he’d be _leaving_ Michaela for a few hours for the first time since she was born.

“Y-Yeah,” he mumbled, casting a glance toward the living room as if he could see into their room where Michaela slept in the bassinet.

“You wanna go check on her, don’t you?” Derek asked and Spencer heard the amusement in the question even if he wasn’t looking. “Spencer, normally I’d say go because I know it will calm you down but this time, I think it’ll do you good to just walk away. You _know_ Mama isn’t going to let anything happen to her.”

“I’ve got the baby monitor right here, honey,” Fran said and when Spencer turned to face her, she was holding up the receiver for him to see. “I’ll hear her the minute she cries. Right now, she’s just sleeping.”

Spencer crossed the room and gently took the monitor and listened closely. He could hear the rhythmic inhalations and exhalations of his sleeping daughter and sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Okay,” he whispered, handing it back and moving to stand beside Derek who called a goodbye out to his mother as he began shepherding Spencer from the kitchen.

Spencer let Derek lead him out to the car but fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt, tugging at them in sharp, jerking motions.

“Spencer, _relax_ ,” Derek said as they slipped into the car. “Michaela will be _fine_.”

“I-I know. I know,” Spencer breathed, breaths coming slightly quicker. “It’s just I’ve never been away from her since she was born and I think part of this is the anxiety I’ve been having and I only _just_ took the first dose of medication and I know it’s not going to make me better instantly but I know your mother is there with her but I can’t help _worrying_ and-”

“Spencer,” Derek snapped to catch his attention. “Take deep breaths and try to relax. I know you can’t help freaking out but I _promise_ she will be fine. Have I ever let you down?”

Spencer immediately shook his head. “No. Never.”

Derek reached over and squeezed his shoulder, helping to ground him. “Then _trust me_ , okay? We’ll only be gone an hour or two.”

Spencer nodded, swallowing back the nausea his anxiety was causing, and dropped his hands from his cuffs. “Okay.”

Derek nodded and started the car, watching Spencer for signs of panic as they pulled out and started down the street.

They made it to the restaurant they were meeting the team at with no further incidents. Spencer fiddled with his shirt and vest a bit but he didn’t ask Derek to go back and he resisted the urge to pull out his phone and call Fran or ask her for a picture of Michaela. When they stepped inside, they found everyone else had already arrived. Knowing they had been waiting because he had been panicking made guilt twist in Spencer’s chest and his fingers itched with the want to start fiddling with something.

“Spence.”

Spencer turned to see JJ standing beside him, arms open in invitation for a hug. He gave her a small smile and stepped into her arms, wrapping his around her. Somehow, his friend’s presence calmed him and he felt himself relax marginally. When they parted, the others on their team took their turns greeting the couple but none gave him as warm a hug as JJ had – except Garcia who was just a “warm” kind of person. As they settled, Spencer purposely sat between JJ and Derek, hoping having those two close by would keep him from worrying too much to enjoy the evening.

“So, guys,” Prentiss said as they all settled at the table, looking between Spencer and Derek. “How’s life with a newborn?”

The mention of their daughter had Spencer grinning and he ducked his head sheepishly, feeling Derek wrap his arm around Spencer’s shoulders.

“It’s great,” Derek said. “Though she mostly sleeps and eats right now.”

“I still can’t believe you had _no_ idea you were pregnant, Reid,” she added in an awed tone, aiming a curious look toward Spencer. “I mean, how does that happen?”

Spence shrugged, feeling himself relax a bit more as the facts required to answer her question just came to him and he found himself rambling easily. “It’s not uncommon for women and carriers who don’t have sex regularly and don’t see doctors regularly and, for women, menstruate regularly to not even realize they’re pregnant right away. With our jobs, there _is_ no regular _anything_ so it was easy for me to miss it in the beginning.

“Then, as it progressed, I didn’t feel much different than normal so the thought that I could be pregnant never occurred to me. This happens when a fetus doesn’t emit enough hCG or human chorionic gonadotropin which is essentially the hormone that the fetus uses to communicate with its parent. If a woman or carrier’s baby isn’t emitting enough, their symptoms will be more mild. It’s why Michaela was smaller than she should have been at birth as many babies of pregnancies like this are. Because I wasn’t eating in enough for the both of us,” he explained.

“But how did you not get bigger?” Prentiss continued, tone rising in curious excitement and hands gesturing to make her point. “I mean, you’re so thin already that a _baby_ has to be noticeable even if it’s small.”

Spencer huffed a laugh, amused at how curious and excited Prentiss was becoming. “As you said, I’m very thin. It’s not strange for me to weigh less than I should. I’ve always been like that since I don’t eat much anyway. And since I didn’t know and I wasn’t eating enough for the both of us, she stayed small. So even if I _did_ gain a little weight, it was easy for me to assume I was finally getting back up to where I should be.”

Prentiss blew out a breath and sat back in her seat, staring at him as she absorbed what he said. “That all makes sense, it’s just… It still baffles me that someone could _not_ know.”

“Would that happen _every_ time?” JJ asked. “I mean, if you _happened_ to get pregnant again or if you’re purposely _trying,_ will every baby be like that?”

Spencer tilted his head as he regarded her, analyzing her question to make sure he understood right. “You mean, will any baby _I_ carry be small and undetectable because Michaela was?”

JJ nodded. “Yeah, if it happened to one, will it happen to more?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. Well, it _is_ possible, but not in the way you’re thinking in that just because it happened to one means it will happen to all. It’s not an issue with _me_ that caused it. Like I said, some fetuses just emit lower levels of hCG. It just depends on the fetus. It is entirely possible that, should I have more children, they’ll produce more natural levels of the hormone and I’ll experience the usual symptoms and be able to sustain the fetus properly so it can grow and then, of course, I’ll show. Or it’s possible that the same thing will happen as it did with Michaela and I won’t know until I’m in labor.”

JJ nodded and smiled in thanks, seeming satisfied with that answer.

Before anyone else could question Spencer, a waitress stepped up to the table to take drink orders. Rossi ordered an expensive bottle of wine for the table which Spencer politely declined drinking and ordered water instead since he was still breastfeeding Michaela.

“I’ll have water, too,” JJ added quietly then averted her gaze when everyone shot her questioning looks. “If Spencer can’t drink, he shouldn’t be the only one not having wine.”

“JJ, you don’t have to do that,” Spencer said, offering her a reassuring smile. “Derek isn’t drinking either since I can’t.”

“Still,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d feel better if you two weren’t the only ones not drinking.”

“Okay then,” Rossi declared, putting an end to the light arguing. “The wine and three waters it is.”

The waitress nodded and disappeared and a calm quiet settled over the table, the natural flow of conversation having been broken by her appearance. Which Spencer was grateful for. He understood everyone’s curiosity about Michaela and her birth, but he felt uncomfortable being in the spotlight. But, of course, the reprieve didn’t last.

“So, do you guys have more pictures?” Garcia asked with a grin. “I showed them the one I took of her and Reid the day she was born but I want more.”

Derek chuckled and shook his head. “Like I said before, she mostly eats and sleeps. There isn’t much to photograph yet.”

“You guys should do one of those baby photo shoots,” Hotch suggested. “Haley had one done of Jack and it’s great having an album of pictures of him as a baby tucked away.”

Spencer and Derek glanced at each other then Derek shrugged, looking back toward the team while Spencer looked down at his hands.

“Maybe later,” Derek said quietly, his mood more subdued.

Of course, having profilers as friends means everyone else picked up on the change in the couple.

“Is something wrong?” Rossi asked, glancing between the two.

Spencer sighed and began fiddling with the button on one of his cuffs. When he spoke, it was just above a whisper. “A photo shoot is a nice idea but sounds too overwhelming for me right now. I, um… I haven’t been myself since Michaela was born.”

“Like baby blues? I thought that went away after a week or two,” Hotch said.

“It does,” Spencer confirmed. “And when I didn’t get better and I started feeling scared of irrational things and thinking things that terrified me, we saw my doctor. He said I have postpartum depression and anxiety. I’m on a light dose of an anti-depressant that will help and allow me to continue breastfeeding but I only started today.”

“He’s gotta give it time to do its thing before we try something as exciting and overwhelming as photo shoots,” Derek added, his hand slipping from Spencer’s shoulder to rub calming circles into his back.

“Oh, honey,” Garcia sighed, mouth turned down in a deep frown. The rest of the team looked at them with similar expressions as they took in the new development.

Spencer tensed at the way she said it, feeling like everyone was pitying him now because he was _sick_ and dependent on drugs to be a normal human being so he could take care of his daughter. He glared at the table, hands clenched into fists in his lap.

“Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t treat me like I need to be babied or like I can’t handle being a mother. I’m still _me_.” With an annoyed huff, he shoved Derek’s arm away and stood, stalking toward the front of the restaurant and out toward their car. He didn’t think he wanted to tell Derek they needed to _leave_ but he did want a minute away from everyone.

To his annoyance, he’d only been alone a minute when footsteps crossed the parking lot and headed straight for him.

“You know,” he sighed without turning around to see who it was. “When someone walks away, it usually means they want to be alone.”

“I know,” the person said and it surprised him a bit that it was Hotch who had come to check on him. “But I thought maybe you might want to talk.”

“Why?” Spencer sighed, turning to face his boss. “What is there to talk about? You all know one of my secrets now. I’m _sick_ and so far, I’m a terrible mother.”

“Spencer, you’re _not_ a terrible mother,” Hotch said firmly and Spencer didn’t miss the way he easily used Spencer’s chosen pronoun. “And we know you’re you. We aren’t going to treat you any differently just because you’ve hit a rough patch.”

“I _saw_ it in the way you all looked at me and the way Garcia spoke,” Spencer snapped.

“What you _saw_ ,” Hotch countered, “was our family feeling upset that its youngest member has been suffering. We know you’ll be okay but we hate that we haven’t been here to help.”

Spencer sighed, anger fleeing him, and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. He stayed quiet for a moment, staring at the pavement near his feet. When he finally spoke, he didn’t look back at Hotch. “I want to extend my leave to the full three months you can allow me.”

Without hesitation, Hotch nodded. “Done. May I ask why?”

“Family leave is meant to allow the new parents time to settle in with a baby and bond with it. But our month is half over and everything feels like it has been so chaotic that I haven’t had time to _enjoy_ being a mother. I’m constantly afraid of being alone with my own daughter or letting her out of my sight. I want more time to let the anti-depressants do their job and then have time with Michaela as _myself_. And,” he added, finally meeting Hotch’s eyes. “I haven’t been able to properly _think_ about coming back or quitting. I thought I wanted to quit so there would be no risk of Michaela being orphaned if anything happened to Derek or I. But then the thought of any other job doesn’t feel right to me. I need to get myself under control so I can think properly.”

Hotch nodded his understanding. “I’ll put in the paperwork to extend your leave. Morgan, too?”

Spencer shrugged and glanced back at the restaurant where he knew Derek still sat with the rest of their team. “If he wants. I’m not sure that he needs the same time away as I do.”

“I can talk to him about it,” Hotch offered. “Let him know what you’ve decided and offer him the choice to take the same time off or return.”

Spencer nodded and turned back to his boss with a calm smile, the worry over making the decision about his job fading now that he knew he’d have the time to properly think it over. “Thanks, Hotch.”

Hotch nodded and turned to go back toward the restaurant. “Are you ready to go back inside?”

Spencer hesitated for a second then nodded, deciding he _did_ feel much better, and fell into step beside Hotch.

“So,” Hotch said as they crossed the parking lot. “You chose to call yourself Michaela’s mother instead of using a male pronoun?”

Spencer felt his cheeks flush and nodded. “Yes. I carried her and I gave birth to her. ‘Mother’ just feels most right.”

Hotch nodded in understanding at that logic. “Then we’ll make sure we address you correctly in relation to Michaela.”

Spencer nodded, unable to help the smile caused by the pleasant fluttering in his chest. Their team knew he was having trouble adjusting to motherhood and that was okay. He would get better and, knowing their team knew, made Spencer feel calmer. It made him feel like he could reach out to them if he needed help now. And, Hotch at least, knew Spencer was going to use _female_ pronouns and didn’t seem affected by it. And no one had questioned his appearance which meant they likely had no idea he was wearing a carrier wrap which made him feel silly for having worried so much earlier. Everything felt _okay_ for now.

He just couldn’t rationalize away the worry about being away from Michaela and needed to call Fran to assure himself the baby was still okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if a product like the carrier wrap exists in other authors’ universes where men can have babies (I know there are omega-centric products in A/B/O fics but I haven’t come across any for lactation) so I hope the product I came up with isn’t too WEIRD… It just kinda came to me one night and I thought it made sense to help with leaks when there is no bra to stuff tissues or something absorbent for leaking.
> 
> At this point, y’all know JJ’s probably pregnant; some had asked if she was around the time she asked Reid to share his birth story. And because I’d said I’m trying to keep close to canon – even though I am probably nowhere near close – which means she SHOULD be around this time. So, in case anyone is seeing more hints in this chapter that she might be and may think I’m teasing at it because I’m unsure, fear not. I KNOW if she is or is not and what I’m doing about it, haha. This just got so long that I couldn’t do much more about that certain plot point in this chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

When Spencer and Hotch returned to the table, Garcia immediately stood and rounded the table to envelope him in a tight hug, catching the youngest profiler by surprise.

“I’m sorry, Reid,” she whispered, sounding on the verge of tears; it made Spencer feel horrible for having snapped at them like he did.

“No, I’m sorry, Garcia,” he whispered back, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could. “It was my fault. You were just expressing your concern for my well-being and my emotions are still out of balance and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

When she gave him a firm squeeze, he knew she’d forgiven him. They pulled away and she returned to her seat while Spencer dropped down to kneel beside his seat to dig through his bag.

“You okay, pretty boy?” Derek murmured.

Spencer nodded as he shoved a hand through the pockets and pouches in the bag. “Yes. I just want to call Fran.”

“Michaela’s fine,” Derek said. “You know she’s just going to sleep the whole time.”

“Still,” Spencer countered in a weak argument.

Derek sighed and gently grasped Spencer’s arm, tugging him up. “We just got here. You don’t need to check on her now.”

“Derek,” Spencer warned in a low tone that wouldn’t catch an audience but would warn his boyfriend to back off.

“No,” Derek said firmly, just as low. “I’m not backing off on this. You need to try to be _you_ for a little bit and don’t worry about the baby.”

“Part of who I _am_ is Michaela’s mother,” Spencer growled. “And I _can’t_ not worry about her.”

“And I’m her father,” Derek countered, still grasping Spencer’s arm to keep him from dropping down to dig in his bag again. “And I’m telling you she’ll be _fine_. You’re just worried because your meds haven’t calmed you down yet. Just _try_ to enjoy dinner and if, in fifteen minutes, you’re still worried, we’ll call Mama, okay?”

Spencer breathed heavily through his nose to keep himself from saying something in anger he’d regret, glaring at his boyfriend. The hand he felt on his arm felt like a heated weight and he was all too aware that, if he tried shrugging Derek off to get his phone, the older man would just haul him back upright. And how dare Derek presume to understand how Spencer felt and act like he knew more about his medications than Spencer?!

“Fine,” he growled, jerking his arm away from Derek’s hold and settling in his seat. He’d just wait out the fifteen minutes then go call Fran anyway. He heard Derek sigh beside him.

“Spence?”

Spencer turned the glare he’d been aiming at the table to JJ but softened his expression when he saw the concern in her gaze.

“Are you okay?”

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s one of the things that my medications are supposed to help with: my irrational fear of being away from Michaela. I _know_ Fran is capable of taking care of her but anytime I’m away from her, I feel like I have to go check on her.”

“Is that why Morgan won’t let you go call her?” JJ asked.

Spencer nodded. “He’s right to though,” he reluctantly admitted. “I need to let the meds do their thing and try to relax.”

JJ nodded in understanding then bit her lip in a gesture Spencer recognized as one she did when she was thinking about something. Then she turned to address the whole table, cutting off a conversation Hotch and Rossi were having.

“Guys?” she said then smiled when everyone turned to her. “I have something I want to say.” Everyone remained quiet and watched her, waiting for her to continue. “I’ve, um… I’ve been dating Detective LaMontagne since that case we had in New Orleans last year.”

“We know,” Prentiss said with a grin.

“You do?” JJ asked, clearly confused.

“You’re not as subtle as you both think you are,” Hotch added with a small smile.

JJ huffed a breath that could be a mix of slight frustration that they hadn’t kept their secret well and relief that they were so okay with it. “Well, there’s more to it than that. I’m pregnant.”

The team broke into murmurs of “Congratulations” and smiles. Spencer felt himself grinning widely at the news and leaned over to hug JJ tightly.

“Is this why you’ve been asking me so many questions about when I was pregnant and Michaela’s birth?” he asked her in a low tone so only she could hear.

She nodded as they pull back, still grasping his arms in a friendly hold. “I’ve been curious.”

He nodded in understanding and gently pulled his arms from her grasp only to take her hands in his. “You’re always welcome to ask me anything, JJ,” he assured. “I’ll answer anything I can. And you can come see Michaela whenever you’d like. It might help. Like practice.”

JJ giggled and nodded in acceptance of the offer. “Thanks, Spence.”

~oOoOo~

As the days passed and Spencer continued to take his medications regularly (and all three were pleased to see neither his meds or the caffeine were affecting Michaela), he felt himself settling back into the man he used to be. He felt it become easier to leave Michaela alone while she slept, his mind put at ease simply by the sounds coming from the baby monitor. That, he still kept with him at all times while she was asleep but he was pleased that he didn’t feel the need to go physically check that she was breathing and alright.

In addition to being (mostly) okay with her being away from him, Spencer stopped feeling so irrationally afraid of things. One evening, Derek and Fran had been preparing dinner and Michaela wasn’t sleepy yet. So Spencer held her and forced himself to stay in the kitchen despite how he’d been afraid before of the knives and other objects causing her harm. Much to his relief, nothing happened to her. The adults chatted and Michaela lay quietly in Spencer’s arms. By the time dinner was ready, she was asleep again and Spencer felt calmer about being with her in the kitchen.

While things at home became easier, Spencer still didn’t like being away from her. He suspected that worry didn’t come from his anxiety as much as from just being a parent. But he knew with time and practice, he’d be able to go out and not worry as much.

As days progressed into a week then two and Spencer’s mind settled and cleared, he and Derek sat down and had a real discussion about what to do about their jobs. Finally able to think clearly, Spencer realized he didn’t _want_ to leave the BAU. Derek agreed and assured Spencer that nothing was going to happen to them or Michaela. He added that they could talk to his mother who still maintained that she’d move to Virginia to look after Michaela while they were away.

So they did. They calmly shared their decision with Fran and assured her that they’d thought this through rationally this time. She calmly assured them they she knew they had and was completely in agreement with their plan. They both would take the full three months of family leave. Fran would return home to pack her belongings ( _“Mama, I can come help you, you know.” “Nonsense. Spencer isn’t ready for you to leave him alone for several days and I have your sisters and their husbands. We’ll get me all packed in no time!”_ ) and return in a couple of weeks. She’d stay in their guest room for now while she found somewhere nearby. Spencer was secretly grateful for that; he liked having her nearby when he couldn’t figure out how to do something with Michaela. But having Fran’s help still made Spencer miss his mother.

He’d mailed the letter he’d written the afternoon he’d snapped at Derek and a few more between then and now. In the first, he’d told his mother that she had a granddaughter and that they’d come see her when Michaela was old enough to. Then, in the following letters, he shared with her his fears about losing himself and then, when they’d realized what was happening, his fears of being reliant on medications. As he’d continued to take them and realized they were helping him and nothing bad was happening, he shared that with his mother, too. He told her he was doing okay and reiterated that they would come see her in a few weeks since Michaela was nearly old enough to fly but that they were in the middle of moving Derek’s mother and couldn’t leave her yet.

A few days after making their plan, Fran went back home, leaving Spencer and Derek alone with Michaela for the first time since her birth – not counting the first night after Garcia left and before Fran arrived the next afternoon. Spencer worried for a little bit at first but as one day came and went and the next and the next passed, he felt himself easing into a routine with Michaela and he stopped worrying about nearly everything. He felt like a real parent now and was constantly overwhelmed with _how much_ he loved his daughter, enjoying the time he spent with her.

He even spent an afternoon alone with her while Derek went grocery shopping. They _could_ have taken her with them but Spencer felt ready to be totally alone with the baby and assured Derek that he could handle it. When Derek returned an hour and a half later with their groceries, it was to the sight of Spencer and Michaela lying on the floor, Michaela on her stomach on her baby blanket from Garcia, facing Spencer who lay on his side with his head pillowed on one arm while the other rubbed her back. Clooney had settled on Michaela’s other side, snoring softly. The baby had her eyes focused on Spencer and every now and then, she’d lift her head off the blanket. It wasn’t very far and she could only do it for a few seconds but it made Spencer smile every time.

“Hey, pretty boy, what are you two doing?” he asked, setting the groceries on the floor by the door for now.

“I believe most mothers call this Tummy Time,” Spencer mumbled. Derek wondered how long they’d been lying there because Spencer seemed sleepy. “It gives babies a chance to explore. When she’s old enough, she’ll start pushing herself onto her hands and knees to crawl. For now, she’s strengthening her neck muscles by lifting her head as much as she can and holding it there. She does it when I tap the floor with my hand because the sound catches her attention,” he said, tapping hand extended away from him. The noise in the otherwise quiet room made Michaela lift her head curiously but didn’t look away from Spencer’s face. After a few seconds, she laid it back down and blew out a breath.

“She can’t look up that way though,” Derek pointed out unnecessarily.

“No, but she knows I’m doing it,” Spencer said with a soft smile. “I can tell by the look she gives me and the little huffs every time I do it.”

Chuckling, Derek knelt behind Spencer and reached over to caress the back of his daughter’s head. “Is Mommy teasing you?” he cooed.

Spencer snorted though he smiled, loving the way Derek interacted with their daughter. “Hardly.”

As Derek moved into her line of sight, Michaela lifted her head and watched him, cooing softly. When he settled behind Spencer, she dropped her head and watched them.

“How long have you been lying here?” Derek asked after a minute of silence. Spencer had stopped tapping at the floor and Derek thought he may have fallen asleep.

“Mm, an hour I think,” Spencer said. His hand on Michaela’s back had stilled and both he and the baby looked close to falling asleep.

“Why don’t you two go lie down,” Derek suggested. “I’ll put away the groceries and take Clooney for a walk.”

Spencer hummed softly in what Derek was going to assume was agreement because he knew the two of them really did need a nap. He carefully moved himself over Spencer to gather Michaela into his arms. Tucking her to his chest in one arm, he used his other hand to gently shake his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Come on, pretty boy,” he murmured.

Spencer mumbled unintelligibly and curled his arm up to his chest now that his hand wasn’t resting on Michaela’s back. He made no move to get up.

Chuckling, Derek decided to leave him. If he was asleep when Derek had Michalea tucked in, he’d just carry Spencer to bed. He stood and took the baby to their room, tucking her in in the bassinet. As she stared up at him while he did, her eyes drooped and she blew out a heavy sigh before letting them fall completely closed.

Satisfied one was asleep, Derek returned to the living room to gather the other sleepy member of the house. Just as he’d expected, Spencer was completely asleep on the floor, breathing gentle and even. Being careful not to wake him, Derek gently slipped his arms under his boyfriend and lifted him effortlessly into his arms. Spencer buried his face into Derek’s neck in his sleep and sighed happily.

Derek carried him to their room and gently tucked him in. watching as Spencer shifted in his sleep to bury his face into Derek’s pillow. As he settled, Derek brushed his fingers through Spencer’s hair a few times, just watching him sleep. _His_ Spencer was back again. The realization washed over him and he leaned down to press a kiss to Spencer’s temple. The younger man mumbled in his sleep which made Derek grin.

“I love you,” he whispered before standing and slipping from the room.

As he put away the groceries and gathered Clooney for his walk, Derek let his mind wander. Now that Spencer was more like himself, he felt like it was time to set in motion making Spencer a Morgan like their daughter.

~oOoOo~

One week after Fran went back home bled into two then three and before they knew it, she was returning with her things. Her furniture and a lot of her little decorative items went into a storage unit for now but they moved in her clothes and a few little trinkets for her room. Spencer had cleared the guest bed of the sheets and blankets and told Fran she was welcome to use her own sets, saying she was family and could do as she pleased.

Once she was settled into the house, she gave them the go ahead to take their trip to Nevada. She told them she’d be fine while they were gone and would spend the time looking for her own place nearby and taking care of the house and Clooney for them.

So, nearly two months after her birth, Michaela got to take her first flight. It actually went a lot more smoothly than Spencer was expecting. In the week leading up to their trip, he’d done as much research about taking babies on planes and what to take and how to keep them occupied and keep other passengers from hating them if she started crying. He even ventured onto blogs and forums created for mothers to discuss these things and found a few anecdotes and tips that were helpful. By the time the morning of their flight arrived, he wasn’t as nervous as he thought he’d be. He knew the plane was safe – he and Derek flew enough for their job for him not to have any fears of flying or taking Michaela on a plane for safetey reasons. All his anxieties came from wondering if she was ready for this and how they’d manage an infant on a plane.

But it went a lot better than he thought it would and as they landed, he’d blown out a breath of relief. Michaela had slept as they’d boarded. They’d tucked her against the window in special carrier they purchased specifically for the plane. While the one that could be attached to the base in Derek’s car was nice, the carrier wasn’t approved for the plane so they’d had to purchase a carrier that could fit in the seats better. Spencer had reasoned that they’d likely take Michaela with them any time they visited his mother so the purchase wasn’t a bad idea anyway.

As they’d taken off, she’d woken and had started crying. Remember what he’d read about pressure changing being painful on a baby’s ears – and, truthfully, it wasn’t any less uncomfortable as an adult – and how nursing or sucking on something could help, Spencer had quickly dug out one of her pacifiers to let her suck on. It was too early for her to eat again and he didn’t want to take the chance that the flight would make her nauseous and he didn’t want to have to clean up baby vomit – though he had packed an extra change of clothes for himself and Michaela in their carry-on bags just in case some kind of a mess was made and a change of clothes was necessary.

With a pacifier to suck on and Spencer murmuring soothing nonsense to her while rubbing his hand back and forth across her tummy, Michaela had fallen asleep again, her nap having been interrupted by takeoff. He’d glanced around once she was asleep again but no one seemed to have been paying any attention to them. Thankfully, she hadn’t cried for long before Spencer had given her the pacifier and she’d settled down shortly after that. With a sigh of relief, he’d settled against Derek, his hand still resting on their daughter’s carrier, and had fallen asleep as well, head resting against Derek’s shoulder.

She’d woken a couple of hours into the flight and had started fussing which had woken Spencer. This time, Derek had offered to take care of her so Spencer removed her from her carrier and passed her to Derek. As they shifted her between them, it became quite clear what she was fussy about and Derek chuckled as he excused himself to take her to the bathroom. He returned a minute later with a frown. This plane’s bathroom wasn’t big enough to contain a baby changing table.

As he’d explained this to Spencer, a flight attendant had been passing by and overheard. She’d kindly offered to allow Derek to use the space the flight attendants sat during takeoff and landing. It was empty while they were working so he was free to lay the baby out there and do it.

As he’d returned with a freshly changed Michaela, he was making faces at her, getting her to smile and make a slight humming noise Spencer suspected was a laugh. Derek settled down with her and they kept her occupied this way, entertaining her with faces and getting her to smile and make that almost laugh. When she grew bored of this little game, Spencer settled her back into her carrier and found one of the toys he’d purchased specifically for the flight.

At two months old, Michaela hadn’t had any toys yet – when all she did was sleep most of the day and didn’t possess the eye-motor coordination required to enjoy any kind of toys, they hadn’t purchased any. But for the flight, Spencer found a few things suitable for a two-month old infant. He’d found an activity spiral that wound around the bar of a crib or, in this case, her carrier. Her eyes immediately found the brightly colored toys and she lifted her hand to try to grasp at some of the parts. Watching her, Spencer couldn’t help grinning, feeling his heart flutter with love for this little curious person.

This kept her attention longer than Spencer thought it would. Then she started fussing and looking toward him. She curled her hands into fists and placed them near her mouth. When Spencer picked her up to try to calm her, she started rooting against Spencer’s chest. His anxiety spiked again: she was hungry and he had no idea how to feed her on a plane. Did he just tuck her against his chest here? They’d have her blanket to cover her and his chest. Or did they go to the bathroom? But who knew how long she’d take to eat and he didn’t want to annoy other passengers. Maybe he could ask the flight attendant to use their space. It might be quieter for her, too. He needed to decide quickly though, before she began to cry enough to anger others near them.

Thankfully, that same flight attendant had been passing by. She’d noticed Michaela’s actions and smiled fondly at Spencer.

“Looks like someone’s hungry,” she said. When Spencer gave her a confused frown, she added, “My sister has a baby. I recognized the gesture as one my nephew does when he’s hungry. You can use the same space you used to change her if you’d like.” And with that, she’d continued on.

Derek showed him where the flight attendant had taken him to change her then returned to their seats while Spencer fed Michaela. When they returned, Michaela looked on the verge of another nap but not quite sleeping. Spencer tucked her into her carrier and tucked her blanket around her. He slipped a pacifier into her mouth which she sucked on right away then tucked a soft lamb toy that played soft music beside her. The warmth and soft lullaby and soother put her to sleep for landing and deboarding.

As they stepped into the terminal, Spencer carrying Michaela and Derek carrying their carry-on bags, Spencer sighed in relief, grinning at his boyfriend. Michaela had made it through her first flight without much trouble. No one had given them sour looks or complained about the noise. Michaela had cried during takeoff but had been so asleep that she didn’t stir when they landed which Spencer was grateful for; he hated seeing her cry because her ears hurt and was glad she slept through the descent.

They stopped at a hotel they’d be staying in for the few days they would be in Nevada to check in and freshen up then left for the hospital. Michaela remained asleep during the drive but Spencer still worried. He smoothed his hands down his torso, making _sure_ the carrier wrap wasn’t visible and that he hadn’t leaked through it, then fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt.

“Relax, pretty boy,” Derek soothed, reaching over to gently grasp Spencer’s wrist where he was fiddling with the buttons on his shirt cuff.

“What if she doesn’t know who I am today?” Spencer asked in a too-fast speed, quickly continuing before Spencer could say anything. “What if she does and she gets angry that we didn’t tell her sooner? Or what if she decides she doesn’t like Michaela? What if I leak in front of her?”

“Spencer,” Derek snapped with just enough force to get his boyfriend’s attention, softening his tone as he continued. “You told her about Michaela in a letter, right? You explained to her that Michaela was a surprise. In her response, did she say anything that would make you think she was angry she didn’t know sooner?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. She said she was excited and couldn’t wait to meet her.”

“Okay, then I don’t think she’s going to be angry. I think she’ll be happy and she’ll _love_ Michaela. And you won’t leak through your shirt. That’s what the wrap is for and you haven’t had any trouble with your clothing since Mama gave it to you, right?” Again, Spencer nodded and Derek continued. “So don’t worry. Besides, she’s your _mother_ ; you were a baby at one point, too. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Spencer nodded, taking a deep, calming breath, and letting his hands drop into his lap. “You’re right. I always worry that she won’t recognize me when I visit and sometimes, she doesn’t. But we still enjoy time we spend together. It hurts when she doesn’t know me but she still likes talking with me.”

Derek nodded in understanding. “If she doesn’t know who you are today, she’ll still love you and she’ll love Michaela. And we’re staying for a few days so we can always come back tomorrow and maybe she’ll know who you are.”

Spencer nodded and took another deep breath. “Right.”

“Good. Because we’re here,” Derek said as he pulled into the parking lot.

They found a space then got out and collected Michaela. Spencer made sure her blanket covered the carrier so the sun wasn’t shining in her eyes while Derek pulled out her diaper bag. They stepped inside and Spencer confidently stepped up to the desk where a nurse sat.

“Dr. Reid!” she greeted with a grin when she saw him. “And Agent Morgan.”

Derek nodded his greeting with a soft smile.

“Who’s this?” the nurse asked, nodding to the carrier.

“This is, um, Michaela,” Spencer said, glancing down at the carrier in his hand. He lifted it enough to peel back the blanket to reveal the sleeping infant. “Our daughter.”

The nurse cooed and grinned up at him. “First time meeting Grandma?” she asked. When Spencer nodded, she stood and rounded the desk. “Diana is out in the garden. I can take you to her.”

Spencer nodded and covered Michaela again then followed the nurse. “How is my mom? Is she…?”

The nurse gave him a soft smile, knowing what he was worried about. “I don’t know how she is today. I haven’t talked to her today.”

Spencer nodded in understanding and followed her into the garden, Derek behind him. They stopped several paces away from a bench under a tree in which Diana sat with a book while the nurse continued over to her, gently gaining her attention.

“Diana,” she said. “You have a visitor.”

Diana Reid looked up from her book to the nurse then her eyes flicked to Spencer and Derek standing behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just make a cliffhanger?! I don't think I've ever written a cliffhanger before. But that seemed like a good place to stop, so... Sorry? ^^;


End file.
